


The 100: Like Hell I Do

by pirateboots



Series: Honet-De [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fix-It, Multi, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 130,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6221215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateboots/pseuds/pirateboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A canon-divergence fix-it fic starting from the last 10 minutes of 307 and carrying on through to a finale with a very alive Commander Lexa.<br/>The bullet passes cleanly through Lexa and gives her a fighting chance to survive. Once the danger has passed, Clarke must leave for Arkadia before the blockade goes into effect. When she arrives, she finds her people almost unrecognisable both thanks to Pike's influence and the suspicious effect Jaha's City of Light chips are having on those who choose to take them. Can she save her people?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thirteen (Redux)

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic is based on my theories for season 3 before the terrible no good very bad thing happened. Clexa is a special pairing to so many of us and I would like my memories of them to be good ones. I hope that by writing and sharing my own version of canon, that it might bring you some peace and closure to the couple. They deserve better and now that they belong to the fandom we have the power to give them better. 
> 
> This work is intended to be every bit a replacement for the show, with one chapter for every episode we have been robbed of. As a result, the story will encompass the POV of as many of the character's as possible and will still include major character deaths. It intends to be every bit as dark and complex as the show.
> 
> This is your canon now.

The final shot that Titus would ever shoot from a gun rang out, echoing off the concrete walls of the bedroom with a sickening force. It was followed hard upon by the clatter of the handgun dropping to the floor as Titus lost his grip on the weapon in his shock. Clarke’s eyes widened as the magnitude of what she had just witnessed hit her as if the shot had actually met its intended target. It had not.

“Lexa!” Clarke cried out, “No!”

The Commander had appeared in the doorway in the same instant that Clarke had gone to open the door and make her escape. The bullet, fired wildly in Clarke’s general direction by an untrained hand, had pierced through Lexa’s upper abdomen. 

Lexa stumbled backwards slightly upon the force of the impact and then, with a look of sheer shock, she glanced down as a gush of black blood escaped the wound and spread over the fabric of her shirt. Lexa’s hand went to her stomach and her fingers came away black. Her wide eyes flashed from her bloodied hand to look in Clarke’s eyes and in the next instant, Lexa crumpled to the floor.

Time had seemed to last an eternity and a millisecond all at once, but the sight of Lexa’s legs giving out finally righted Clarke’s perception of the event and she sprung into action.

“Help me get her to the bed!” Clarke ordered Titus. He had picked himself up off the floor and rushed over to where Lexa had fell. The Flamekeeper’s face was pale with the horror of what he had done, but the urgency of Clarke’s direction spurred him on. Together, they picked Lexa up off the floor and carried her to the bed. As they did so, Clarke noticed that there was also blood blooming on the back of Lexa’s shirt. “The bullet went straight through, lie her on her side!”

The situation was critical, but Clarke fixated on the fact that the shot, from a hefty handgun and from a reasonably short distance, had at least seemed to pass through Lexa’s slight frame cleanly. It had not been stopped by rib or diaphragm. There was time to act, to save Lexa.

They laid Lexa onto the bed on her left side so that Clarke had access to both wounds. Her insides lurched horribly at the sounds of terrible pain coming from Lexa as trauma began to kick in full force.

“What have I done?” Titus’s voice was filled with anguish. He was unfocused again, equally sickened by Lexa’s howls and groans. A girl he had watched grow up to become arguably the greatest leader, now looked so frail and small as she fought for her life. And he was to blame.

“I need to stop the bleeding!” Clarke said desperately. Her hands were already squeezing tightly against the wounds on Lexa’s abdomen and back, but the blood was still flowing too quickly, the black liquid seeping through the gaps between her fingers and covering her hands.

Titus moved away to find something to help stop the bleeding whilst Clarke remained, her arms already starting to protest from the force with which she kept her hands squeezed against Lexa’s flesh. Lexa shook and moaned with pain and Clarke responded by squeezing tighter still, trying to stop the Commander from moving too much,

“You’re okay. Lie still,” she urged gently, “Lie still!”

Lexa peered at Clarke and spoke between shallow raspy breaths, “Don’t be afraid,”

Clarke felt her stomach roll violently at the words. Even when it was her life on the line, Lexa was more concerned with Clarke’s well-being. Clarke tried to offer a weak reassuring smile.

Titus returned now with a bowl of rags and Clarke had to move quickly. She took her hands away from the wounds just long enough to rip Lexa’s shirt open and then she halved the rags and applied them to the wounds, keeping the pressure firm. At first,simply having something other than her own hands to slow the bleeding gave Clarke renewed hope,

“You’re going to be fine, stay still,” she whispered to Lexa, but the hope lasted mere moments as the rags Titus had provided were already almost completely black. “She’s losing too much blood!”

Titus merely looked at her before bowing his head. He reached into his robes and procured a leather pack which he proceeding to untie. Inside was a box and some medical instruments, but by this time Clarke’s attention was back on Lexa, back on trying to keep the woman she had finally opened her heart to today from bleeding out on her bed.

Lexa gave another wrenching groan and Clarke wracked her brain for a solution. She was trained in medicine after all. She had saved Jasper from a spear to the chest. She had removed a knife from Finn’s chest and saved him during a thunderstorm. Surely this time would be no different. She grimaced in frustration before an idea hit.

“Titus! There’s a dagger under the mattress.” Clarke cocked her head to show him where to look, “Get it and heat it up using a candle,”

Titus looked from the scalpel he had removed from the leather pack to Clarke, and then back again. Then with a nod he put the small blade down and followed Clarke’s instructions. He reached and felt under the mattress until he found the dagger and immediately set about heating the blade over a candle flame.It was the same dagger Clarke had held to Lexa’s throat mere days ago, the dagger Roan had given her so that she could take her revenge and end Lexa’s life. Now she hoped it would help to save her.

“Lexa, I’m going to cauterise the exit wound, okay?”

As long as Lexa was bleeding from two places, the situation was critical. Clarke knew that cauterisation was a big risk to take, infection would be a very real threat, but for now the only thing she could concentrate on was stopping the blood, and closing the larger wound even in such a risky manner seemed best.

The blade of the dagger red hot, TItus moved back to the bed and handed the weapon to Clarke. Wordlessly, he moved towards the top of the bed and began to bunch up some of the bed sheet. He offered the gathered material to Lexa and she opened her mouth and bit down. The moment she did, Clarke pressed the burning hot blade to Lexa’s back. The sickening crackle of burning skin was drowned out by Lexa’s scream of pain that tore from the back of her throat, and the Commander ground her teeth into the fabric in her mouth. Titus’s eyes filled up at the sound of such suffering.

“Okay,” Clarke said softly, “Okay, it’s all closed up.”

Titus reached and removed the bed sheet from Lexa’s mouth as Clarke rolled her onto her back so that she could properly tend to the entry wound. At least now it was the only place Lexa was bleeding from. But it was still gushing quite alarmingly, the pain of the cauterisation had no doubt quickened Lexa’s heart rate, forcing the blood out of the wound faster. Clarke picked up the rags again and held them fast against the hole in Lexa’s abdomen. Lexa looked at Clarke through drooping eyes, like she had already decided that to keep fighting was futile. The Commander turned her attention to Titus.

“Forgive me, Heda,” the Flamekeeper spoke and his voice was heavy, burdened with guilt.

“Yu nou trana bash op Klark nodotaim nowe. Swega em klin.” Lexa’s voice was barely even a whisper as she asked Titus to swear not to harm Clarke ever again. 

Titus tilted his head and it looked like the tears in his eyes might begin to fall. He offered a nod and replied “Ai swega em klin,” his voice sage with the promise made.

Lexa managed a weak nod and continued to give instruction, “Den dula yu job op. Badan neson-de op kom we yu don badan ai op, Fleimkepa.”

Clarke, who had been half-listening to the exchange whilst the majority of her attention was focused on keeping pressure on the wound, became suddenly more alert at Lexa’s words. Lexa was starting to say goodbye,

“Hey! Don’t you dare give up!” Clarke pleaded and she pressed strongly down on the wound with both hands.

“I’m not,” Lexa spoke, though her voice was hardly intelligible, “My spirit will live on,” she explained and each word came out as a weak and shaky whisper in between stuttered breaths.

“No!” Clarke’s voice was loud and forceful in return, it’s tone defiant. Stubborn. “I’m not letting you die, okay?” Despite her defiance, Clarke couldn’t stop her voice from beginning to crack as the threat of losing Lexa suddenly began to occupy her thoughts more than the need to save her. Clarke’s blue eyes began to shimmer with tears and she regarded Titus with a snarl, “Where are the guards? A healer? We need more help! Look,” Clarke looked down at the wound, “The blood is slowing now, there’s still time!”

Indeed thanks to the continuous loss of blood, Lexa’s heartbeat had dropped away and where the blood had been gushing out, it had now slowed to intermittent spurts in time to Lexa’s weakened pulse. 

Titus did not move from his vigil at the bedside however, as if he was resigned to waiting for Lexa to slip away. As if all his help up to this point had been mere posturing as he waited for Clarke to give up too. Clarke felt her heart rise to the back of her throat and she thought she might scream at him to move, to fight to fix the mess he had made. The idea that perhaps he wanted Lexa to slip away from them made her sick.

“The next Commander will protect you,” Lexa spoke and Clarke’s anger melted away at the words as she turned her attention back to Lexa. Clarke was as moved as she was frustrated at Lexa’s willingness to accept her fate. 

She replied instantly, her voice raw with emotion, desperation, and a great deal of petulance, “I don’t want the next Commander!” She cried out, and then to really get her point across, “I want you!”

Even despite the situation, Clarke felt a swell of pride as Lexa’s green eyes widened at her heartfelt plea. The thought of losing Lexa today, when Clarke had finally let go of the last of her doubts, had dared to let her walls crash down and commit to the possibility of a future spent with Lexa, was too much. And she could only hope that Lexa would feel the same, that her words would inspire a woman who had previously been so blase and accepting of the inevitability of her death to change her tune, to choose instead to fight as hard to survive as Clarke had fought to save her. The Commander might be willing to accept death, but surely Lexa, beautiful, passionate, romantic Lexa, would want to fight for the chance of more time with Clarke.

There was a beat where Clarke's words hung in the air and then finally there was hope as an unmistakable fire returned to Lexa’s eyes, even despite the pale claminess of her face, despite the fact that she was still fading.

“That’s it! Just hold on a bit longer,” Clarke urged, “Look the blood has slowed now- we just need-”

“Coagulant,” Lexa finished for Clarke, “The guards carry-” but she was too weak to say anymore.

“Titus go and fetch the guards!” Clarke ordered the Flamekeeper to act. And this time he nodded an affirmative, as if hearing his Commander shift from acceptance to defiance had finally opened his eyes to the injustice of the situation he had caused. Had finally reminded him that his loyalty to the Commander’s spirit extended to doing everything in his power to aid it’s host. He rushed out of the room.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, unaware of the drama unfolding in the tower that dominated Polis’s landscape, Octavia worked her way through the market towards Indra’s home. Even in the evening, the capital was bustling with activity, the heady rush of trade and conversation and life. Despite the severity of her mood, Octavia tried to let the pulsing atmosphere of the grounder capital wash over her as she walked and she knew that it was somewhere she could learn to call home more than any other place she had been.

And yet she was being forced back to Arkadia, back to the people who she could not accept as her own, and who would not accept who she was. Her mood fouled further when the thought of her brother filled her mind. She almost barked out a laugh as she thought back to how quickly he’d gone from “You’ll always fit in with me,” to “It’s time to stop playing grounder,”. She knew that losing Gina so suddenly had hit her brother hard, that he felt responsible for trusting Echo’s lies and leaving the mountain unguarded but his decision to support Pike stung Octavia like only a betrayal from a family member could.

Where she had found her place among the grounders, the love of her life among them even, Bellamy still refused to view them as anything but an enemy. And that divide threatened the one bond she had had on the Ark, the bond between a little sister and her protective older brother.

And yet despite the rift between them and despite Octavia’s hatred of Bellamy’s actions, still she could not find it within herself to hate him. She knew that that was why she had remained so vehemently against Clarke’s support of Lexa. She knew that Commander Lexa was being merciful by proposing a blockade of Arkadia, knew that they really deserved much worse after the slaughter of three hundred innocent warriors sent there to protect the Sky people. Octavia had walked across that field of blood and bodies and wanted to take revenge for the fallen herself. But still Octavia needed an outlet for her anger and her frustration and it was infinitely easier to cling to older wounds than to accept the fresh ones inflicted by her own blood.

Octavia tensed her jaw and steeled herself as she made it close to Indra’s home. Indra was at risk of becoming rudderless following her survival of the massacre and Octavia knew that she needed to be strong for her mentor, so that both of them may move forward. Octavia was therefore pleasantly surprised when she found Indra already fully dressed in her battle gear and ready to go, her stance rigid and imposing as it should be.

The pair exchanged a wordless nod and then clasped arms, a silent agreement passing between them that it was time to move past their own rift and face the future. Despite her mood, Octavia felt her heart lift at the thought of Indra accepting her back as her second once the situation in Arkadia had been solved. 

Together, the headed back towards the tower, looking every bit the united front.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa’s breathing was shallower than ever but her eyes remained diligently open and Clarke was sure now that she has chosen to fight hard. Her hand was still pressing down on the entry wound, although the blood was only escaping now in small trickling pulses. With the bleeding under control, Lexa was now in most danger from the internal trauma and the blood loss she had already suffered and yet in the moments whilst they waited for Titus to return with help, it felt almost like a respite.

Lexa reached out and lay a shaking hand over the one Clarke kept pressed against her abdomen. Clarke’s eyes lit up at the contact and she looked into Lexa’s eyes, a small smile on her lips.

“You have beautiful hands,” Clarke spoke without really thinking and though she did not possess the strength to smile, Lexa responded with a slow blink,

“You-” she tried, wheezing the word out,

“Shhh,” Clarke hushed her and was about to say more when the door finally opened to reveal Titus and a guard.

Without waiting to be prompted, the guard moved with purpose towards the bed, already unrolling the first aid kit that all guards carried on their person. Clarke felt her temper flare and she wanted to demand to know why the guard had taken so long, where he had been all this time. But she knew that the answer would not change anything and she held her tongue so that the guard could concentrate on the task at hand.

First he removed a bottle of clear liquid and he passed it to Clarke,

“Clean the wound,” he instructed.

Clarke popped the cork off the bottle and the smell of very strong alcohol hit her nose and made it wrinkle.

“I need to roll her so I can disinfect the exit wound,” she said, “I had to cauterise it.”

The guard nodded and took over holding the rag to Lexa’s abdomen so that Clarke could roll the Commander onto her side again. The exit wound was ugly and blistered, but sealed tight. Clarke poured some of the disinfectant on the burned skin and Lexa yowled in pain.

“Gauze!” Clarke demanded and the guard passed her a clean piece of cloth which she placed over the burned area before shifting Lexa onto her back once more.

The guard was about to let Clarke resume the pressure on Lexa’s abdomen, but Clarke was already reaching for his kit and pulling what she needed from it. A small vial of coagulant and another vial of red seaweed that had been boiled into a concoction. First she poured some of the disinfectant onto the still open entry wound and used a piece of fresh cloth to wipe as much of the blood that had begun to crust on Lexa’s skin away. She tried to ignore the renewed noises of agony coming from Lexa as she worked quickly, with all the practice of someone with medical experience. She poured on some more disinfectant for good measure and then covered the wound in the coagulant, using a piece of gauze to keep it in contact with Lexa’s skin. Finally, Clarke reached into the first aid kit for a large bandage and she nodded to the guard.

WIth uttermost care, the guard scooped his Commander into his arms and lifted her slightly off of the mattress and Clarke wound the bandage tightly around and around Lexa’s torso, covering both wounds securely before knotting the ends. As soon as Clarke was finished, the guard lowered Lexa back onto the bed as carefully as he had lifted her.

To finish, and before Lexa could slip into sleep as her eyes were now drooping heavily, Clarke popped open the vial of seaweed broth and held it up to Lexa’s lips, pouring the concoction into her mouth. Lexa choked a little, but managed to swallow it down. The antibiotic would hopefully fight off infection and stop Lexa’s condition from worsening during recovery.

“There, see. I’ve fixed you.”Clarke whispered triumphantly, although she knew they were not really out of the woods yet. She turned to Titus and found that his expression was for the first time in the whole nightmare, somewhat hopeful. “She will need blood. Can you?”

Titus nodded immediately, “The natblidas can all donate a little. It is an uncommon practice, but we understand the process.” With that Titus turned to leave again but before he could go, the door opened to reveal Indra and Octavia.

Indra’s eyes widened at the site of the Commander on the bed, deathly pale and heavily bandaged. And then her warrior’s instincts took hold and her eyes immediately began to scan the room. She looked first to Murphy. Clarke had all but forgotten he was also in the room. Throughout the whole ordeal had remained tied to the chair Titus had left him in, unable to comprehend the flurry of drama around him and dazed from his injuries. Only presently had he begun to try to work his hands free of the knots around his wrists, though he stopped under the intensity of Indra’s gaze. Then Indra’s eyes moved on until they landed on the gun that Titus had dropped to the floor.

“Heda, what happened here?” Indra’s voice was cool and accusatory.

Clarke shook her head at Lexa to stop her from trying to respond and then her blue eyes darted to Titus, the anger against him that had subsided in the rush to save Lexa now returning. She wanted to tell Indra the truth. She felt the accusations form on her tongue. She swallowed them back down.

“A misunderstanding, that’s all,” Clarke spoke up, not looking away from Titus’s face so that she could at least see the satisfaction of the Flamekeeper blanching at the threat of being exposed.

“Is she going to make it?” Octavia asked.

Clarke’s attention fell back to Lexa, “She better.”

“Only, we still need to leave for Arkadia before we end up on the wrong side of the blockade.”

Clarke grimaced, the reminder of her duties unwelcomed in the aftermath of nearly losing Lexa. She almost wanted to tell Octavia to just leave her be, to go back to Arkadia alone so that Clarke could stay and watch over Lexa’s recovery. But she knew she would not- she could not stay. And Lexa wouldn’t want her to.

“I know, I’m coming,” Clarke assured Octavia but she did not yet move from where she sat on the bed next to Lexa. Without concern for their audience, Clarke reached and took one of Lexa’s hands in her own. “Hey,” she spoke and Lexa listened with heavily-lidded eyes, “I have to go now.” Clarke laced their fingers together and reached out with her other hand to brush Lexa’s hair away from her clammy forehead, “You just get better okay? You keep fighting.”

Lexa parted her lips and let out a shallow breath, struggled and then managed to speak, “Ai gonplei nou ste-”

“I know.” Clarke hushed her, “I know that because we’ve only just begun.” With that promise, Clarke leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Lexa’s lips as Lexa finally succumbed to sleep. Clarke kept her face close to Lexa’s and reveled in the feeling of Lexa’s warm shallow breaths tickling against her face, the feeling of life. “May we meet again,” she whispered and she thanked the stars above that those words had not had to be prefaced with the traveller’s blessing.


	2. Lines Drawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy goes to visit his old mentor but his intentions are less than honourable. Clarke and Octavia return to Arkadia with news of the Commander's blockade. Meanwhile, Jaha's mission has hit a snag as he no longer has his chips thanks to Dr Griffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are essentially episodes so they are going to get long. Please take a break if you need to and make sure to have something liquid to keep yourself hydrated! And snacks if you want. Happy reading :)

Bellamy raised his hand to the door, his fist pausing in mid-air for a beat as he gathered his thoughts, ran through his approach one more time. He breathed evenly, set his shoulders square and rapped sharply on the metal. There was a short wait and then;

“Come in,” came Marcus Kane’s voice from inside his quarters in the main living building of Arkadia.

Bellamy entered the room and shut the door again behind him. And then he stood and waited. As expected, Kane looked surprised at the identity of his visitor but the shock soon morphed into a welcoming smile.

“Bellamy? Is there something you need?” Kane asked. He was the same concerned, caring man as ever even with all the bad blood between them.

Bellamy set his jaw and stood tall. “Can we talk about the grounder village?” He asked, keeping his voice strong but earnest in his request.

Kane regarded him another while before nodding for Bellamy to take a seat, “Please,” he said.

Bellamy took the offered seat and was silent for a while as he tried to think of the best way to start. His hands found their way absentmindedly into the pockets of his guard jacket and there they balled into tight fists. Bellamy ground his teeth.

“It was tough losing Monroe like that. I know she was a good friend of yours.” It was Kane who broke the silence.

Bellamy felt his anger flare at Kane’s prompting. How dare Kane be the one to bring up Zoe when it was his actions that had led to her death. It was Kane’s treason that had led Octavia to choose to warn the grounder village of the attack so that her own people had instead walked straight into a deadly trap.

He did not want to blow his cover however and so Bellamy worked on his breathing and made sure that none of the anger he felt showed on his face. Inside his pockets, his knuckles had turned white. And despite the anger it had caused, Kane’s prompt had given Bellamy a good angle to work from. Further deflecting his anger, Bellamy instead tried to muster the remorse that he tried so hard to keep buried to the surface. He looked down at the floor.

“Monroe died because she trusted me,” he stated, “She wouldn’t have gone on the mission if I wasn’t there.”

Kane, who had taken to leaning against the cluttered desk in the middle of the room, stroked his beard and then crossed his arms over his chest. “Monroe was a skilled gunner.” She went on that mission because she thought she could do some good for her people.”

Kane’s lack of judgement surrounding the motives of the mission hit Bellamy in the gut. I was no secret that Kane abhorred everything that the mission stood for and yet, he had not chosen to bring these disagreements up, had focused instead on the tragic loss of life and the effect it had had on Bellamy. It took Bellamy off guard but it was a good sign- Kane had thought Bellamy to be genuine in voicing his feelings and had responded genuinely in kind.

Keeping his front, Bellamy shook his head and sniffed. “No,” he argued, “Monroe would never have picked up a gun if I hadn’t of encouraged it when we first got to the ground. She fought because I promised her she was strong enough. She believed me and now she’s dead.”

“Bellamy, your ability to inspire others it not something to be regretful for. People trust you and listen to you because they can see that you care. That you have their best interests at heart and take your duty of responsibility to them seriously.” Kane straightened up as he spoke and turned away from Bellamy to reach for a flask on the desk. “You know I’ve grown to have faith that you could be a great leader to our people some day,” Kane continued, still with his back turned s he unscrewed the lid off the flask. “But you need to learn to accept that people under your responsibility will die sometimes. It’s an unfortunate reality of being a leader.”

Kane reached out for two metal tumblers and Bellamy knew he had to take his chance. He removed one of his hands from his pocket, bringing with it the small listening bug that Pike had given to him to plant. He quickly checked that it was turned on and then reached and stuck the bug under the chair he was sat on. As he did this, Kane poured out two measures of moonshine from the flask. Bellamy had just righted himself and replaced his hand in his pocket when Kane turned and offered him one of the tumblers.

Bellamy reached out and took the offered drink. He considered the liquid inside, moving the tumbler so that the moonshine sloshed about. When he looked up, Kane had his own drink raised to the air in a toast,

“Monroe,” he said, “May we meet again.”

Bellamy swallowed hard and mimicked the gesture, “Zoe,” he toasted simply in a low voice and then the men tossed back the moonshine in one go. Bellamy savoured the burn as the alcohol hit the back of his throat, the pleasant warming sensation that followed.

“Thanks for the talk,” he said and offered the empty tumbler back to Kane before standing up, “And the drink,” he added.

Kane gave him a nod, “Anytime,” he said, “It may seem like we are on opposite sides of a line right now, but we still have a common cause. We want our people to be safe. Maybe something will bring our approaches to that goal more in line soon.”

“Maybe,” Bellamy replied simply and with that he turned and left Kane alone.

The conversation and Kane’s concern for him had affected Bellamy more that he liked to admit. There was a niggling sense of guilt that Kane had thought him to be honest in seeking out his advice and had readily stepped back into the role of mentor, when the reality was much more sinister. Bellamy strode away towards Pike’s office and shook his head in judgement of himself. He re-focused his emotions, remembered that visiting Kane had been an important task. Kane’s treason against Pike had gotten one of their own killed and the Chancellor needed evidence of that fact before any more people were hurt. Kane was the bad guy in this, Bellamy reminded himself, Kane was the one who had let his own people down. The lines that had been drawn between them would not be so easily erased as Kane hoped.

As he rounded the corner, Bellamy spotted Miller approaching from the opposite direction. He offered a nod and Miller stopped in front of him,

“Miller,” Bellamy said, “How’s things?”

Miller actually sneered at him, “Oh you know,” came his reply, his tone harsh, “Fighting the good fight.”

Bellamy considered Miller to be one of his closest friends and so he recognised Miller’s sarcasm immediately. Bellamy had suspected that Miller had been helping Kane and Octavia ever since the interned grounders were found to have medicine on them. Miller had been the only guard whose loyalty to Pike questionable that had gone anywhere near the cell. Cautious not to give himself away, Bellamy thought to change the subject.

“How are you and Bryan. Must be good to be reunited after so long?” Bellamy asked and he knew he had misjudged immediately as Miller’s expression grew even darker.

“Yeah, it’s great. Shame so much of our time is taken up warmongering though.” Miller was not holding back.

Bellamy grit his teeth. “We’ll all get our chance to relax once Arkadia is safe. The harder we work, the quicker that day will come.”

Not wanting to hear more of Miller’s snark, Bellamy left the conversation at that and continued on towards Pike’s office. When he looked back over his shoulder, he saw Miller continue the way Bellamy had come from- towards Kane’s quarters. Bellamy allowed himself a smirk- they might just get their evidence sooner than anticipated. He quickened his pace.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pike regarded the young man stood before his desk with barely restrained contempt. Whilst he understood Bryan’s concerns about being on opposite sides to his boyfriend, Pike couldn’t help but see Bryan’s focus on personal relationships as detrimental to what they were trying to achieve. There would be time to kiss and make-up after the ground was made totally safe for the Arkers to live on.

“- just promise me that if he’s found out to be associated in anyway with Kane’s activities that you’ll have time for mercy,” Bryan finished what had been a long and passionate speech.

Pike straightened in his plush chair and clasped his hands in his lap, “You know I can’t make promises like that, Bryan. It will depend on the severity of any crimes he’s found guilty of.”

Bryan looked like he was about to protest when a knock at the door interrupted him. Recognising the knock as Bellamy’s, Pike called out, “Enter!”

Bellamy came in through the door, “I planted the bug, Chancellor. And I saw Miller heading to Kane’s room after I left so-” Bellamy paused mid-sentence when he noticed that Bryan was present.

Pike nodded and reached into the top draw of his desk. He pulled out a walkie talkie, set to the frequency of the listening bug now planted in Kane’s room and switched it on. As expected, two voices in conversation could be heard through the talkie- Kane and Miller.

Pike listened close, as did Bellamy and Bryan.

“Still no word from Octavia?” Miller was asking.

“No. We know she was still alive to try to warn the attack team about the trap, but no news since. My guess is she was either killed or captured by the grounder villagers,” Kane replied. It was the evidence of treason they needed. Still, Pike kept the talkie on and listened a while longer

“Maybe I should go to the village, there might be tracks-” Miller spoke again. Pike watched Bryan’s face closely, saw the man close his eyes and breath deeply, afraid for what Miller’s fate might be.

“No. If she was captured rather than killed, they would likely have taken her to one of their leaders. To Polis even, to report to the Commander about the attempted attack.”

“Trying to get Lexa to revoke ‘blood must not have blood’ and start a war. I hope your faith in her is well placed. Even I think we’d deserve a retaliation.”

Pike had heard enough now and he reached and flicked the walkie talkie off.

“Looks like we’ve got some arrests to make,” he spoke evenly despite the sense of absolute satisfaction that filled his chest.

“Chancellor please!” Bryan started again, “Make an example of Kane if you must, but please don’t hurt Nate. He’s a good guard, if I can just reach him he’ll be more valuable to you.”

“What do you think Bellamy?” Pike asked his right-hand man, curious to hear Bellamy’s take on the situation and hopeful that he wouldn’t be disappointed with his answer. The young guard considered the question for a moment and then gave a nod,

“He needs to be punished for what he’s done. But I agree with Bryan that it is Kane who needs to be made an example of. Put Miller in with the grounders. If he truly feels we deserve to be killed for fighting for our right to be here then he’ll fit right in. Or maybe he’ll come to his senses, in which case his skills will be welcome.”

Pike considered the options a moment and then gave a nod. “Very well. Giving Miller the opportunity to come to the right side might inspire others who are currently sympathetic to Kane. Alright. We go and arrest them both for treason. Nate Miller will be imprisoned indefinitely and Marcus Kane will be locked-up pending execution.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay run through what you saw in the room where Titus kept you one more time?” Clarke prompted Murphy, earning her a groan of annoyance from him. Admittedly, it was all she had been talking to him about since they’d left Indra behind five miles outside of Arkadia, but she still couldn’t wrap her head around what Murphy was claiming.

“There was a space pod from the thirteenth station ‘Polaris’ in there,” Murphy began repeating the tale again, “Only the A and the R had been scorched off during re-entry.”

“Polis,” Clarke mused.That at least was easy to get to.

“And I assume the person in the pod, a woman, was the only survivor from Polaris and she somehow created the first nightbloods and became the first Commander of Trikru. Assumedly by taking the company logo and turning it into some sacred symbol mumbo jumbo to get people to follow whatever the hell she was trying to achieve,” Murphy surmised and as he did so he brought his hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, like the explanation was leaving him equally perplexed.

“And that logo is the infinity sign? And it’s on the chip that you say Jaha gave you to get into the ‘City of Light’?”

“That’s it, take the chip and all your ‘you’ just floats away in favour of,” Murphy paused, “Hell I don’t know what it is.”

“You said it was a virtual reality controlled by an artificial ‘bitch in a red dress’ before,” Clarke prompted for she was desperate to understand,

“I mean yeah, I guess that’s what it is. It’s something that you see in your mind.”

Clarke shook her head. The idea that the traditions of the grounders were built upon technology when they so feared the stuff was difficult to digest. And there was a bigger concern that was driving Clarke to find answers, to understand how Jaha’s chips, and a virtual reality, and the history of the Commander could possibly piece together. She had seen the infinity tattoo on the back of Lexa’s neck, had traced it with her own fingers in fact and almost asked about the neat vertical scar that the tattoo had been inked over. Clarke was medically trained and she knew a scar made from a surgical cut when she saw one. What was that symbol hiding?

“Well whatever Jaha has gotten himself into, it’s going to lead to more trouble with the grounders if we are not careful. If Trikru finds out that their beliefs have something to do with a virtual reality, there’ll be chaos.”

“How do you know they don’t already know that?” Octavia chimed in. She had been silent until now, obviously hurting about having to leave Indra behind at the boundary of the blockade whilst she, still considered to be a Sky person, had to return to the walls of Arkadia.

Clarke looked towards Octavia and shrugged, “That makes no sense. The grounders are terrified of technology. And even if Trikru know about the meaning behind the Commander’s sacred symbol, surely they’d keep that between themselves. The other clans would never have agreed to the coalition in the first place if they knew.”

“I don’t think we can make assumptions until we know exactly what the missing link is,” Octavia argued, “Besides it’s been ninety-seven years. Maybe whatever actual link there was between the symbol and the commander has vanished. Maybe it is all just symbolism now, I mean that’s enough for a belief system right?”

Clarke didn’t really want to reveal why she was certain Octavia was being optimistic. She sucked in a breath and scowled, “I suppose so,” she said.

“Look, right now we need to focus on sorting the Pike mess out so that we can put an end to the blockade,” Octavia urged and as she spoke, Clarke noticed her hands ball into fists like Octavia knew exactly how she’d like to ‘handle’ the Pike problem. “Once that’s done you can go back to Polis and just ask Lexa what the deal is. If it’s something bad then she’ll want to get in on stopping Jaha too right?”

Clarke offered Octavia a small smile. The fact that Octavia had spoken as if she had every faith in Lexa making a recovery helped to bolster Clarke’s hopes too and whether intentional or not, Clarke was grateful to her friend for that.

“Yeah, doubt the Commander would relish the idea of Jaha trying to take Clarke’s winning attributes away.”

Clarke shot Murphy a dark look, warning him not to say anything more in regards to her and Lexa. If he saw the warning look however, he did not heed it.

“I mean, not that I’ve been around much but from what I’ve gathered the woman stopped a whole damn war from happening because you were being you,” Murphy continued.

Clarke responded before she’d even registered that was was doing so, “She didn’t stop a war just because I asked! She stopped it to move her people closer to a peaceful future, a vision she’s been working towards since long before I- we dropped out of the sky.” Clarke finally managed to stop herself and she grimaced. As expected, her passionate outburst of support for Lexa had done nothing to discourage Murphy,

“Well great. That’s great, you’re both as whipped as each other,” Murph spoke and as he did so he came to a halt, “And on that heart-warming note, I must leave you,” he announced.

Clarke and Octavia stopped walking too. They were still a good mile outside of Arkadia.

“You have to come to Arkadia, Murphy, the blockade-” Clarke started,

“Won’t be in position for another hour. Long enough for me to make myself scarce,” Murphy finished for her.

Clarke frowned. “And where do you think you’re going to go? The grounders know the woods far better than you, they’ll find you and you’ll be killed!”

“Ye have little faith, Clarke. Look even if I didn’t have a destination in mind, a steaming pile of panther crap would still be more welcoming to me than the thought of having to put up with Jaha’s skrish again,” Murphy argued.

Before Clarke could think to argue back, Octavia jumped in, “Skrish? Where the hell have you learned to speak trigedasleng?”

The way that Murphy rolled his eyes to the sky confirmed that Octavia was onto something. Clarke raised her eyebrows and waited for the explanation. Hearing the man who had been tortured numerous times by grounders choose to use their language was indeed suspicious. Clarke wondered what could have happened to Murphy that despite all the misfortune that had befallen him, he still could afford enough respect for the grounders to bother to pick up their speech. The answer that came to Clarke almost made her snort,

“Holy crap,” Clarke said, certain she was right in what she was about to say. She turned to Octavia and smirked triumphantly, “Murphy’s a grounder pounder.”

There was a beat and then Octavia let out a shriek of laughter and Clarke found herself laughing to. Murphy’s stony silence was all the confirmation they needed that Clarke was correct.

“What’s their name?” Clarke asked through her laughter,

“Her name’s Emori,” Murphy admitted and he looked sheepishly down at the ground, his foot kicking at the dirt.

“Fine. If you go now, I’m not going to stop you,” Clarke spoke as the laughter finally subsided, “You know about the kill order for any Sky person found breaching the blockade. If she’s worth the risk who am I to stop you?”

Murphy’s cheeks actually began to turn red at that. Without another word to either of them, Murphy gave a nod, turned and began to walk off. Clarke watched him go for a while and then she turned to Octavia and raised her eyebrows,

“We should hurry,” she said and began to walk again. She stopped when Octavia didn’t follow. “What is it, Octavia?”

Octavia opened her mouth to speak but then stopped. She shook her head and then finally said, “I don’t know. Murphy being… not an idiot. Hearing you laugh. It’s weird.”

“Right,” Clarke said and she could understand Octavia’s confusion, “I guess it’s because-”

Octavia raised her eyebrows. “Oh I know what it’s because of,” she said and then it was Clarke’s turn to blush.

They began walking again and Clarke offered her friend one last smile, almost certain that when they reached Arkadia, cause for them would be nowhere in sight. Octavia did not return it.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the door to his quarters burst open, Marcus’s gut sank. He knew exactly what was happening before his eyes had even registered Pike, Bellamy and Bryan storming into his room, demanding that he and Miller drop to their knees with their hands raised.

Marcus immediately complied with the barked order and when Miller hesitated, Marcus looked up to the young man and shook his head gravely. Miller sighed and dropped next to him, putting his hands up behind his head.

Pike sauntered forward, “The bug?” He asked Bellamy.

Marcus closed his eyes and gave a defeated exhale. He had been thoroughly duped by Bellamy’s show of hurt and had paid for it. Marcus opened his eyes again and watched as Bellamy walked to the chair he had sat on and lamented about the death of his friend not twenty minutes ago. When Bellamy reached the seat, he bent and reached under and retrieved a small listening bug exactly like the one Miller had previously placed in Pike’s office. Bellamy held the bug up, plain for everyone to see. Pike looked at it and then set his hard expression onto Marcus and Miller.

“You are both under arrest for treason against my leadership as Chancellor,” Pike stated.

Marcus did not open his mouth to protest and was thankful when Miller remained quiet too.

“Your silence now is as damning as the things we heard through the bug. Conspiring against me, putting our people, our agenda at risk by continuing to side with the grounders against your own,” Pikes voice grew heated, “We know it was you who worked with Octavia to tip off the grounder village. And now one of our best soldiers is dead.”

Pike stopped a moment and nodded to Bryan. Bryan procured two sets of cuffs from his belt and moved forward. Kane winced as Bryan roughly cuffed his hands. He was gentler with Miller.

“Why are you siding with him?” Miller asked his partner quietly. Bryan did not respond.

“Now, the things we heard through the bug implicate you both equally. However, I recognise that as the older and more experienced man regarding political affairs, it is Marcus Kane who takes the honour of being the leader of this nonsense. Therefore it is only fitting that he pay the heaviest price.” Pike paused for a moment and then looked to Miller, “Nathan Miller, you are sentenced to imprisonment and are stripped of your rank as guard of Arkadia.” Next Pike looked to Marcus and Marcus could see the sneer on the Chancellor’s face. “Marcus Kane, you are sentenced to death. You will be imprisoned until it is time to meet your fate.” With another nod, both Bellamy and Bryan came forward. Marcus and Miller were manhandled onto their feet and marched out of the room towards the prison cell.

As they walked, Marcus turned to Bellamy who was keeping a painfully tight hold of his shoulder. “You’re running out of time to wake up,” Marcus murmured, “Soon you’ll be too far gone and you will never be able to make peace with yourself.”

Bellamy grimaced at him but did not give a reply.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaha’s body was knelt on the floor in a quiet corner of the hangar and yet his mind was somewhere else completely. His eyes squinted at the perpetual sunlight bouncing off brilliant whitewashed walls and reflective surfaces of the perfect city. He breathed the warm air, the breeze just so to make the heat pleasant rather than uncomfortable. He turned and smiled at the sight of the city square, filled with around thirty people now, those from Arkadia who had freed their minds to the possibility of a perfect existence and taken the chip. But they would be the only residents of the City of Light unless Jaha could somehow get the rest of the chips back from Abby Griffin.

“You are anxious,” came the familiar raspy voice of ALIE. Jaha turned to her and found her regarding him with her head tilted to the side like she did so often.

“Yes. Anxious to get the chips back so that we can continue our work. Look at what a start we’ve made,” Jaha said and gestured to the people in the square, some talking with each other, some sitting or standing and simply basking in the majesty of the place, “We cannot lose momentum. Not now.”

“And we won’t. There are more people still who are ready to join us Thelonious. Losing the chips is a small hiccup, nothing more,” ALIE spoke, her tone reassuringly even.

“That’s easy for you to say. It is I who will have to steal them back.”

ALIE cocked her head again, “Is it?”

Jaha furrowed his brows and looked at her expectantly.

“Forgive me but I was under the impression that a large percentage of the population of Arkadia were previously considered criminals. That is why they were chosen as the first to be sent down to Earth was it not?”

Jaha nodded an affirmative, but he was uneasy. “Getting kids to steal for us hardly adds legitimacy to our agenda,” he argued but as he did he already knew that ALIE was right to suggest using one of the delinquents. She was almost always right.

“Not if they aren’t caught. And not if the delinquent we ask already believes in our mission-”

“Jasper,” Jaha finished for the AI.

“Jasper,” she replied simply.

Jaha breathed deeply as his mind returned to his body and he woke up back in the hangar.He took a moment to gather himself, it was always jarring to come from such beauty back into the grey metal of Arkadia. Once he had collected his thoughts, he stood and headed towards the bar, certain that if he was to be find anywhere, Jasper would be there.

As expected, Jasper was sat alone at the end of the bar, his head down against the cool metal surface.

“Jasper?” Jaha said and he placed a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. Jasper jerked awake with a groan, “Easy, Jasper. I mean you no harm.”

“Jaha?” Jasper asked, his eyes unfocused from the alcohol induced sleep.

Jaha let out a sigh. The poor boy had been once again left to his own devices, spiraling further and further down into despair with no hands rushing to catch him. Only Jaha had offered any chance of helping Jasper move past his pain and then that chance had been ripped away by Abby.

“I need your help son.”

“I’m busy,” Jasper replied and with that he picked up his previously abandoned moonshine and drained the cup.

“What, drinking yourself into a stupor again to make the pain go away? Only to wake up feeling even worse? You know there’s a better solution,” Jaha urged.

“Was a better solution,” Jasper slurred back, “Until Dr Griffin.” Jasper made a vague hand gesture, speaking seemed to be too much effort for him. Jaha fixed the boy with an even, imploring stare.

“So help me get that solution back.”

Jasper regarded him for a moment and then squinted, “Are you asking me to steal for you, Chancellor?”

“I’m not the Chancellor anymore,” Jaha reminded him, “Just a man trying to do right by the people he still owes responsibility to.”

Jasper shrugged,”I wouldn’t know where to start to look.”

“Perhaps not. But Jackson might,” Jaha prompted. Jackson had already taken a chip and though his loyalty to Abby would possibly make him resistant at first to the idea of stealing from Abby, Jaha had confidence that ALIE would guide Jackson to making the right decision.

“Jackson?”

“Let’s just say he’s,” Jaha paused for emphasis, “A true believer,” he finished.

Jasper regarded his empty drink for a moment and then looked back at Jaha. He nodded, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Jaha was pleased, “Good!”

Jasper picked himself up off the chair and gave another groan at the effort, “Have to wait until Jackson is alone in the med bay, ask him where Abby would hide something,” Jasper mused.

Jaha nodded in agreement and motioned that Jasper should get to work. Then he had a thought, a way to make Jasper extra focused on his task, “Oh and Jasper,” he called and Jasper turned to him, “When you find the chips, go ahead and have yours right away. Goodness knows you’ve earned it.”

Jasper gave a small smile and a nod and skulked away.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danai’s groans rang through the crowded prison cell. Marcus frowned as he smoothed the grounder woman’s hair from her face. He was knelt on the floor with the gravely ill woman’s head upon his thighs, raising her head so that Lincoln could try to give Danai the last of the medicine that Miller had smuggled into the cell care of Abby.

Lincoln held the bottle to Danai’s lips and poured, but Danai was fading and the medicine spilled down her chin, she was too weak to even drink.

“It’s no use, that’s the last of it,” Lincoln said defeatedly.

“Abby can get more to her,” Marcus replied, trying to remain optimistic although he knew it was in vain.

Lincoln shook his head, “No,” he said, “Anymore and they’ll notice supplies are going missing. And if she’s too weak to take the medicine…” Lincoln trailed off.

“Not to mention Abby was giving it to me to smuggle,” Miller spoke up from the corner of the cell he had been sat in since he was marched there by his own partner.

“Osir beda frag em op. Em gonplei ste odon,” one of the interned grounders spoke up.

“No!” Marcus almost shouted, “No,” he repeated, his voice quitting again, “We don’t give up on her. Besides we don’t know how Pike would choose to twist a mercy killing to his favour- he could say it was malicious and use it to further his cause.”

When the grounder who had spoken looked perplexed, Marcus turned to Lincoln and motioned his head. Understanding, Lincoln translated what Marcus had just said into trigedasleng.

The grounder listened and gave a growl in response, then he spoke again and Marcus couldn’t make out the words through the man’s anger.

“He said he can’t believe the Sky people call us the savage ones,” Lincoln translated.

“Neither can I,” Marcus agreed simply.

Marcus picked Dania’s head up off of his legs and lowered it gently onto the floor so that he could stand up. He put his hands on his hips and began to pace the confined space. A silence fell over the prisoners. A silence that was soon interrupted by a ruckus of voices from outside the cell room. The outer door slid open and Abby Griffin marched into the room, stopping by the walls of the cell,

“Marcus what the hell is going on?” Abby demanded. As she spoke, a guard came and physically moved her further back from the cell. Abby fixed the offending guard with a look of daggers but she did not protest.

“Miller and I have been arrested for treason,” Kane responded, “Miller is imprisoned indefinitely. I’m awaiting execution as the leader of the resistance against Pike.”

“No! You can’t accept that, we can’t-” Abby’s voice was strained with panic,

“Abby they caught us red handed. Bellamy planted a bug in my quarters. There’s no way to protest this,” Marcus kept his voice calm, trying to soothe Abby’s panic. It didn’t work,

“Marcus I am not just going to do nothing and wait for that tyrant to execute you!”

Marcus immediately noticed the guards in the room raising their eyebrows at Abby’s words. He needed to calm her down immediately or she’d find herself on Pike’s hit list too, “Abby listen to me. You have to accept this. Arkadia needs it’s medical chief.”

As expected, being reminded of her responsibility brought Abby to her senses and Marcus could see the change in her face as rational thought returned. Abby looked past him towards Danai, “How is she doing?”

“Badly. She’s too weak to even take medicine,” Marcus said lowly.

“She needs to be put on a drip, I’ll ask Pike-”

“Negative on that Dr Griffin,” one of the guard spoke up now, “You know the Chancellor is keeping all resources for use by residents of Arkadia alone,”

“If she’ interned then she is a resident of Arkadia,” Abby responded,

“She’s an outsider,” the guard shot back. Marcus’s eyes darted between the two as the air in the cell room grew tense again.

The second guard had watched silently until this point, but now he stepped forward.

“There is a solution to all this,” he spoke and Marcus was immediately aware of the cold cockiness in the man’s voice. “If you can’t stand to see her suffer and we can’t spare the medicine,” the man spoke and as he did so, he tightened the grip on the rifle he held at his side and brought the weapon up to aim it through the prison bars at Dania’s head, “Why don’t we just put the grounder in the ground and have done with it?”

Marcus felt a chill go through him at the utter lack of compassion in the man’s voice. Without really measuring the consequences of doing so, he moved in the cell until he was directly in the line of fire between the gun and the dying woman.”I don’t think that’s necessary. Now lower that weapon before someone gets hurt,” Marcus said.

The guard sneered and kept his gun aimed, “You don’t get to give orders from a jail cell, traitor,” he drawled, “Move out of the way,”

“No.”

“Move out of the way or I’ll shoot you and then shoot the grounder. You’re both dead people walking anyway!”

“I’m not moving,” Marcus spelled each word out clearly. He watched as the guard righted his grip on the gun, double checked his aim, got ready to squeeze the trigger. Marcus held his breath.

The door to the cell room slid open again to reveal a third guard,

“Peterson, Tate?”

At the sound of the new voice, the guard holding the gun immediately dropped the weapon back to his side and turned to face his colleague,

“You’re both needed at the front gate. I’m taking over in here,” the third guard said.

Marcus let out the breath he had been holding, thankful that the new guard had arrived when he had and even more thankful for whatever situation had arisen and prompted his coming to the cell room.

“What’s going on?” the first guard, Peterson, asked.

The third guard seemed to notice Abby’s presence when asked this and he replied with his gaze fixed on the doctor, “Clarke Griffin and Octavia Blake have returned.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jasper entered the medical bay as soon as he saw Abby leave from where he had been loitering in the corridor . He had no idea where she was going or how long she would be gone but he figured if he could at least get Jackson in on the plan to steal back the chips, then Jackson could keep searching whenever possible.

As expected, Jackson was still in the med bay, staring at something that looked boring and complex on one of the many screens dotted about the room.

“Hey,” Jasper said quietly, not wanting to startle Jackson since the man was entirely wrapped up in his task.

Jackson shook himself from his concentration and looked up towards Jasper’s voice. “Jasper? Are you well?”

“Fine. I need your help with something though, and it’s gotta be quick.” Jasper moved closer, he figured if Abby did come back before he had made himself scarce, he could pretend to have come about a bump to the head. It would be entirely believable given it was common knowledge among Arkadia that he spent most of his waking hours in a miserable drunken stupor. Jasper was suddenly reminded of how desperate he was to get his own chip and he opened his mouth to reveal his plan when Jackson spoke up first,

“You want to get the chips back off Abby?” Jackson asked.

Jasper stopped with his mouth open and then stuttered, “Y-yes. How did you-”

“You’ll understand when you’ve taken your own,” Jackson responded cryptically, “I know Abby has more tests to run on the chips, they’ll probably be in here somewhere.”

Jasper cocked his head, “You’re not at all phased at the idea of stealing from your boss? From your friend?”

“Is Abby my friend?” Jackson replied and his tone was cool, “Only a friend wouldn’t try to take away something that has brought you peace.” Jackson moved towards Abby’s desk and began searching the drawers until he found a key. He tossed it and Jasper caught it. “That cabinet, bottom draw.” He pointed Jasper in the right direction.

Jasper walked to the cabinet and kneeled down to unlock the bottom draw. The bag of chips was safely, or not so safely now, stashed inside. “Well,” Jasper said as he grabbed the bag and pulled it out, “That was easy.” He looked over to Jackson and the man gave a shrug,

“Abby trusts me. She doesn’t think to hide things from me very well.”

Jasper made a face and then he reached into the bag and pulled one of the chips out. Without hesitating, worried that at any moment they’d be caught and he’d lose his chance again, Jasper popped the thing into his mouth and felt as it dissolved on his tongue. He stayed kneeling down and waited. There was nothing, no discernable change in him at all, and then all of a sudden he felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Every pain in his body, the physical ache caused from too much alcohol, the mental stress of what he had endured since dropping to the ground, in an instant it all just vanished. Jasper stood with a huge grin on his face and turned to speak to Jackson. He was greeted instead by the sight of a beautiful woman in a form-fitting red dress,

“Whoah, hello!” Jasper grinned widely. The woman tilted her head to the side,

“Hello Jasper,” she said in a husky yet soothing voice, “Tell me, how do you feel?”

“I feel,” Jasper paused and tried to find the right word, “Free,” he decided.

The woman in the red dress returned his smile with her own.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she and Clarke were marched side by side into the Chancellor’s office, the nozzle of a guard’s rifle pressing insistently into her back until she was well within the room.

“You will both stay here and wait for Pike to speak with you. Make any attempt to leave this room and we will use force to stop you,” the guard who had been behind Clarke said and with that, the pair of them left the room, no doubt to stand guard outside the door.

“Warm welcome,” Octavia snarked and she approached one of the comfy looking chairs in the room and dropped into it. Clarke remained standing, looking as tense as she ever had.

“Beats being shot on site,” Clarke replied and the bitterness in her tone made it difficult for Octavia to gauge if she was going for humour or not. Octavia guessed not.

“Think the two of us could just take the guy when he arrive? You hold him, I’ll punch?” Octavia hated the idea of being lectured to by Pike and the thought of ending his life as quickly as possible- preferably without giving him the chance to even open his mouth- was getting her through. Of course Clarke had to burst her bubble,

“We can’t. That would just look like we assassinated him on behalf of the grounders. It needs to be his own people that make the decision to remove him from power,” Clarke explained.

Octavia puffed out a breath, “I thought the Sky people were your people, so?”

Now it was Clarke’s turn to roll her eyes, “You know they don’t think of me like that anymore, at least not the people in power. No, I’m as good as a grounder to them-”

“Just like me,” Octavia finished for her. She was on the verge of making another joke about Clarke’s relations with the grounders but was cut off by the sound of the door opening. It wasn’t Pike who came into the room however, it was her big brother.

“O, you’re safe!” Bellamy exclaimed and he moved forward as if he was going to hug her. Octavia scowled and backed off until her big brother got the message and stopped moving.

“Bell,” was all she could offer him.

“So Pike has sent you in here to butter us up,” Clarke spoke now and it was clear from her voice that she had no patience left for Bellamy whatsoever.

“He sent me in here to make sure that neither of you intend to try anything stupid,” Bellamy explained cooly,

“What, stupid like slaughtering three hundred people who were there to help you? That kind of stupid?” Octavia couldn’t help but to take a dig. She could barely even meet her brother’s eyes as he turned from Clarke back to her,

“Stupid like committing an act of treason,” Bellamy shot back, “Like tipping off a grounder village and getting one of your own friends killed as a result. That kind of stupid.”

Octavia flared her nostrils. “You were going to slaughter a village! Innocent people Bellamy! You were going to march into their homes and gun them down for no reason other than them daring to have claimed a bit of dirt you wanted first!” Octavia screamed at her brother, she just wanted him to wake up and see how far he had let himself fall. She wanted her big brother back.

Clarke had listened to the outburst with a look of ever-increasing fury on her face, “Is that true? You were going to break the Commander’s law for a field?” She asked incredulous.

“Don’t,” Bellamy warned, “Don’t you talk to me about the Commander’s law. Pike and I have been fighting to protect our people from the grounders, fighting to secure arable land so that we can make a life here and all you keep trying to do is to get us all to submit to people that have done nothing but make us suffer since we got down here!” 

Octavia knew that her brother had just touched a livewire and she steeled herself as she waited for Clarke’s response. It did not disappoint, the woman was livid,

“Why won’t you open your eyes Bellamy? The fight was never here! It was in Polis! I stayed to make sure that the Commander kept her word to protect us once she had made us the thirteenth clan. When the other clans didn’t like that and tried to have her removed from power, she dueled a man twice her size and won to keep the Sky people safe. She killed the Ice Queen and put the man she had just publicly ridiculed on the Azgeda throne to keep the Sky people safe. But meanwhile, you and Pike slaughtered the army she had sent in cold blood. And even then, she did not retaliate but tried to shift the traditions of her whole people to keep you safe. So again, you respond by trying to attack a village because you want their land? Something that would have been offered willingly to you had you not rejected the Coalition.” Clarke finally stopped and took a breath. When she spoke again, her voice was quieted and chilling, “So tell me, who is it really making the Sky people suffer most now?”

Octavia watched her brother closely. Despite the rollicking he had just recieved, his face remained impressively passive. Finally he spoke up,

“I can’t believe you’ve chosen them over us. After everything. I have no choice but to recommend to the Chancellor that you be locked up with the other traitors,”

“What other traitors?” Octavia asked, her blood running cold,

“Kane and Miller were arrested for treason this morning,” Bellamy revealed, “We knew someone had tipped you off so that you could warn the village.”

Octavia felt her stomach drop. Bellamy was right. If she hadn’t of tipped the village off Pike and her brother would not have cottoned on to Kane’s workings so quickly. Octavia looked towards Clarke, who was still red from her outburst, and thought about how much hatred she had felt towards her and Lexa for their decision to let Mount Weather bomb TonDC without evacuating the village. Clarke had said it had been to prevent the mountain from learning about Bellamy’s infiltration of the complex. Clarke and Lexa had been right.

It was all too much. She didn’t know if it was more the frustration at herself, or anger at her brother that propelled her forward but before Octavia could think to stop herself, she launched towards her big brother and socked him squarely in the right eye. Whereas before she hadn’t been able to watch Clarke use the shock baton on her sibling, now she wanted to cause him as much pain and worse. She hit him again whilst he was still reeling from the first blow and he fell to the ground with a yelp. She stood over her brother and brought her fists down again and again,

“How could you!” She screamed, punctuating each word with a fist, “Kane was your friend! Miller was your friend.” She kicked out and booted Bellamy in the gut, “I was your sister!”

Octavia fought as she felt Clarke wrap her arms around her waist and struggle to pull her back. Octavia lurched forward, once, twice, before finally the red mist began to lift and she raised her hands to the air to communicate that she was done. Octavia looked down at her brother. He staggered onto all fours and looked up at her, his face bruised and bloodied,

“You’re dead to me,” Octavia snarled. Bellamy dropped his head and he looked like he might fall back to the floor but then the door opened again to reveal Pike.

The Chancellor took one look at the scene and shook his head. “Take Octavia to the cell,” he ordered one of the guards. The fact that neither guard had come into the room during the fight suggested that they had been listening in with Pike for a good while, no doubt hoping to hear something incriminating. Octavia hoped they had enjoyed the show and she sneered as the guard came into the room, cuffed her hands behind her back. She watched as the second guard helped Bellamy to the feet and lead her brother out of the room. She was marched out behind him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke and Pike regarded one another in stony silence, neither moving. Clarke thought that Pike looked much older than she remembered. And much less friendly. Pike had been a great teacher, passing on knowledge of how to survive on the ground so that Clarke’s generation could do likewise for another hundred years until finally the Ark made it’s planned Exodus to the ground. None of them had banked on being the ones putting those skills and theories into real practice. Not everyone was prepared for the grueling reality of life on the ground. Pike had let his experiences fundamentally change him for the worse, although Clarke wasn’t sure herself if she had any right to judge.

“I never expected you’d return here,” Pike finally broke the silence.

Clarke creased her brow, “I haven’t returned willingly I’ll admit.” She needed to choose each move, each word carefully to avoid angering Pike as she knew that that would make it even more unlikely for him to listen to reason. She was still banking on a peaceful resolution if she could find the right way to talk the Chancellor down.

“So you have been sent here?” Pike deduced.

“Oh no, I could have stayed in Polis,” Clarke was honest with him. Let him see that it was he who was unwilling to seek compromise, not the Coalition- well not it’s Commander at least, “But I chose to return to be with my people whilst the Commander’s blockade is put into effect.”

Pike raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, “A blockade?” He asked incredulously,

“Yes. As of dawn today, Arkadia is surrounded on all sides in a five mile radius. Any Sky person caught breaching the blockade is subject to a kill order.”  
“Herded like cattle,” Pike spat,

“Well after you ignored the Commander’s decree of blood must not have blood and tried to attack an innocent village, it was that or all out war with the other twelve clans.” It was a struggle for Clarke to keep her voice measured.

“Let them try. They may have more warriors but they’ll never match our firepower.” Clarke could almost see Pike puff out his chest. She refrained from rolling her eyes,

“Maybe you could win, but how many lives would be needlessly lost in the effort? Why do you choose war when peace was always, always an option,” she urged.

“Peace? You call submitting to the rule of our enemy peace?”

Clarke had to scoff now. “I call learning to live alongside the people who were already living down here and have more right to the ground than we could ever claim peace. I call learning from one another so that we may all benefit and move forward towards a safe future peace. You keep saying that there will be a war, or we’re already at war but we are not. Not yet. Not at all if we don’t want to be.”

“We are at war!” Pike bellowed, “These people have proven time and time again that they do not want us here. We trust them and they stab us in the back. Were they not the ones who attacked one of the Sky people first? Who declared war first?”

Clarke’s hands bunched into fists at her side. “Yes, they attacked Jasper. But he was threatening to bring the attention of Mount Weather by trespassing on the mountain’s lands. Hell that spear probably saved us all from being rounded up by the mountain men sooner. And as for the attack on the dropship, I assume your second in command never explained why the grounders went to war?” Clarke paused and took Pike’s silence as confirmation that Bellamy had neglected to share, “When Bellamy trashed Raven’s radio we had no way of letting the Ark know that Earth was survivable. No way of preventing the cull. So we made some flares to try and send a message up to you and one of them burnt a grounder village when it came back down. They thought we had attacked them first.”

Pike digested the information, his face unreadable. “So they immediately assumed violence and returned in kind? Why not send someone to parlay first?”

“Oh like you sent someone to parlay with the grounder army befor you slaughtered them in their sleep?” Clarke bit back. The anger she had been trying to keep under control was by now white hot and threatening to bubble over in an uncontrollable rage. The man’s hypocrisy was truly astounding and that was coming from someone who had herself admitted to struggling to put her money where her mouth was. “Slaughtered them because you immediately assumed their intent was violent?”

Pike did not reply to that and Clarke took it as a small victory. But the internal celebration did not last long. “So, we are trapped in our own walls like cattle, until what? We all starve to death?” Pike returned to the subject of the blockade,

“Until we prove to the grounders that we don’t want war. That we are willing to make up for our wrong-doings,” Clarke replied. Referring to the actions of Pike’s people as her own too made Clarke feel ill.

“Make up for them through what? My death I assume?”

Clarke grimaced, “It doesn’t have to come to that. I’ll not pretend that it wouldn’t be easier for you to just step down as Chancellor, but if you agree to re-honour Skaikru’s place as the thirteenth clan and swear loyalty to the Commander’s coalition-”

Clarke was cut off by a loud snigger from Pike. “Skaikru,” he mocked, “Coalition.”

Clarke set herself straight, her jaw lifted defiantly at Pike’s verbal blows. 

“Why didn’t you stay with your precious outsiders in their capital Clarke? You’re no Arker no more.”

Those words stung Clarke more than she imagined possible. After all she had done, all she had sacrificed to keep her people safe again and again, to be told that she wasn’t one of them anymore was the ultimate gut-punch. Even though she knew that that was how Pike and his supporters viewed her, hearing it made it all too real. She had to hold back tears of hurt and anger as she struggled to keep her defiant posture,

“I am to the people that matter,” she shot back, knowing that it was an equally low blow.

“Well perhaps those people will make you remember where your loyalties should lie. I won’t lock you up with the other traitors,” Pike started,

“Oh good, it sounds like it’s getting crowded in there and I’m used to solitary imprisonment, “ Clarke snarked.

Pike ignored it and continued, “You’ll be given quarters and there you will stay. I will allow your friends and you mother to visit. Maybe seeing them slowly begin to suffer under the effects of your Commander’s blockade will open your eyes to where the enemy truly lies.”

Clarke met Pike’s eyes and held his stare. She was quite certain she already knew exactly where the greatest enemy to her people was. She was stood in the same room as him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing for so many characters has been a joy and a challenge. Have I managed to capture their personalities?


	3. Lines Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arkadia is suffering under the effects of the grounder blockade. Clarke is under house-arrest and can do little to help her people. Abby is concerned that some people are turning to alternative methods to combat hunger. Monty has a decision to make following a talk with Jasper. Meanwhile, Pike has a message to send to the Commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter gets quite graphically violent towards the end.

Chapter 3: Lines Crossed

The door to the room that had been Clarke’s whole world for a week slid open to reveal her mother carrying a tray. Wordlessly, Abby entered the room and set the tray down on the bedside table. On it was a cup of water and a metal bowl with no more than a handful of nuts and berries in it.

“Lunch,” Abby explained.

Clarke creased her brow as she peered at the meager offering, “Less and less every day,” she muttered.

Abby gave a nod. “It’s no secret that the guards are getting the larger portions,” she said.

Clarke rolled her eyes. She reached from where she sat on the bed and took a few of the nuts and berries, popped one of each in her mouth and then offered the rest out to her mother. 

“No. No. I’ve had my share. And you need to keep your strength up,” Abby said in her most insistent voice. Clarke shrugged and threw the rest of the food into her mouth.

“What for?” She asked in between chews, “It doesn’t take much energy up being in solitary you know,”

Abby winced at that, obviously reminded of the year Clarke had spent alone in a cell on the Ark as a direct result of her speaking up to Jaha about her husband’s plan to reveal the air shortage, “Physical energy no,” Abby agreed, “But your mind needs to stay active.” Abby approached the bed and sat down next to her daughter, Clarke shuffled to make more room.

“I feel so useless,” Clarke murmured.

“It’s important that you are here,” Abby replied and that earned a pout in return.

“Is it? Only you still come to visit me,” Clarke said and it hurt to admit out loud that she was hurt by her friends’ apparent lack of interest in her well being. They’d been keen to visit in the first couple of days of her house arrest, coming almost on the heels of one another to say hello and ask what Clarke had been doing in all her time away. Raven, Monty, Harper, even a few of the original hundred that Clarke had barely known. But now only her mother visited everyday, having made it her duty to bring her daughter her meals. “They think I’m too much trouble. Being seen as being too close to me puts them in danger,” she mused.

Abby did not protest Clarke’s guess. “Everyone is feeling the effects of the blockade,” she said instead, “Remember a few years ago when we had the longest water shortage in the Ark’s history? God knows how people managed, walking around those corridors was like walking among the undead. But we pulled through that and we’ll get through this.”

Clarke did remember the shortage very well. She had just started her placement in the medical bay with her mother and had dealt daily with the effects of serious dehydration as person after person had succumbed to its effect. Clarke hated the thought of her friends looking like the whole Ark had back then- withered and shaking.

“Only if Pike is removed from power quick enough,” Clarke said and then she gave a sigh, “I should have stayed in Polis. At least there I could have negotiated with Lexa for food packages to be sent or something!”

Abby gave a small smile at her daughter’s optimism, “A noble thought. But one that I think flies in the aim of the blockade.”

Clarke looked defeated. Her mother was right. The suffering caused by the blockade was supposed to be the tipping point. As soon as people had endured enough hunger, the hope was that they’d open their eyes and realise that turning against Chancellor Pike was the easiest solution to their woes. But Sky people were nothing if not stubborn and the time it would take for that shift to occur was going to put lives on the line. Something needed to change soon.

“Have you been drawing?” Abby spoke up, filling the silence that had fallen between them. Two days ago she had turned up with Clarke's rations as well as a pencil and pad that she had apparently had to beg off of Sinclair. “You know, I saw your cell back on the Ark. All pictures of the ground,”

Clarke got up off the bed and moved over to the small desk where she had left her pad, ”Well you know,” she said as she reached and picked the pad up, “That was the dream back then.” She moved back to the bed and sat back down next to her mother,

“Hm. You draw what you dream of?” 

Clarke gave a shrug, she hadn’t really thought about it much and it had been a long, long time since she had discussed her artistry with her mother, “I guess. Just the idea of somewhere so wide and open and fresh. Back when I was in my cell I could look at my drawings on the wall and almost imagine…” Clarke trailed off. “Guess the reality has been somewhat less peaceful than I ever dreamed,” she added glumly.

“But no less beautiful,” Abby offered as a consolation to her daughter’s melancholy.

Clarke placed the drawing pad on her lap and opened it to the first page, angling it so that her mother could see. The first sketch was of a single flower, its petals intricately shaded with the pencil in a way that almost made it seem like it had been fully coloured in. The next page was of the tower in Polis, drawn in striking bold lines so that the structure popped off the page, almost as imposing as the real thing. After that was a forest scene, then a stony stream. Abby appraised each one silently, her eyes light. Occasionally she would reach out and trace the lines of her daughter’s work.

“Amazing,” Abby said as Clarke turned the page and adjusted the pad so that it was landscape. She had drawn Camp Jaha as it had looked when it had first been established, the surroundings of Arkadia as it stood now still too new and unfamiliar for Clarke to draw from memory. She had etched out the curving wreck of the station with great care, trying to recall every detail down to the scorch marks left on the metal from its violent return to the ground.

On the next page was a sketch of Monty. Clarke had drawn it as soon as he had left after visiting her the first time. It was quick and rough, but still managed to capture his earnestness, was unmistakably him.

Abby made a noise of appreciation, “I like this one, you never drew people very often,” she mused,

“Well I’ve never been as good at people as I was at landscapes,” Clarke admitted.

A warm feeling had settled in her tummy and she felt content in that moment, showing her work to her mother. It felt like the most trivial thing she had done in weeks, or at least since some of the rare quiet moments she’d enjoyed in Polis. The fact that she was currently under house-arrest among her own people whilst they were being lead by a tyrant had briefly fallen to the wayside.

Clarke went to turn to the next page of the drawing pad, but she stopped as she turned the page corner upwards and revealed a penciled bare foot on the paper below. She quickly grabbed the corner of that page too and skipped over the sketch, “Oh, that one was terrible,” she explained, keeping her voice even, “You don’t want to see-”

“Yes I do,” Abby interrupted her. Clarke almost groaned and she turned to her mother with her eyebrows raised. “If it’s terrible maybe I can offer some pointers.”

Clarke’s eyebrows remained raised at this. She knew for a fact that her mother could barely manage a stick figure, she’d gotten all of her artistic talent from her dad. But she knew that Abby was not going to relent and so she turned back a page. The sketch was not terrible at all, it was in fact sublime.

The page was taken up with the shape of a tall, lithe figure clad in a floor-length nightgown. The garment had been shaded black, in contrast with the figure’s skin. Great care had been taken to capture the play of candle-light and shadows on the face, the bare shoulders and the long toned leg that was left exposed by a slit in the nightgown’s right side. Cascades of gentle curls had been painstakingly sketched falling over the woman’s right shoulder and her facial expression was open, hopeful. It was a sketch of Lexa, exactly as Clarke remembered her looking that night she had visited Clarke’s bedroom after the duel to say thank you. Clarke could still remember exactly the way her breath had been snatched away the moment she’d opened the door to reveal Lexa like Clarke had never seen her before. With not a single trace of the Commander visible in the young woman. And now that memory had been committed to paper.

There was a silence in the room, not exactly awkward as expectant, as Abby looked over the sketch. Clarke wondered for a moment if Abby would even recognise the figure, but then Lexa’s arm tattoo, effortlessly recalled and recreated on the paper, was a dead give away.

“Clarke this is exquisite,” Abby finally said and Clarke wasn’t sure how to take her mother’s choosing to focus on critical appraisal of the piece rather than the subject of it,

Clarke sniffed, “I couldn’t get the jaw quite right,” she said and pointed to where there were still visible eraser marks under the finished sketch,

“No, I think you’ve captured her perfectly,” Abby encouraged, “It’s a wonderful likeness, and that’s considering I’ve never seen the Commander so-”

“Neither had I until then.” Clarke couldn’t help but smile. Her mother returned it,

“When was this?”

“The night after her duel with Roan,” Clarke said. She had filled her mother in on the big political shifts that had occurred in Polis over the course of her mother’s daily visits. “She came to thank me for backing her, for stopping the vote of no confidence from passing,”

“Is that all?” Abby asked with a raised brow and Clarke wrinkled her nose,

“Yes actually!” Clarke protested on behalf of Lexa, “Lexa is the dictionary definition of chivalrous.”

“Well I’m glad to hear it!” Abby laughed and Clarke joined in for a while. 

Once they quieted again, Clarke shut the drawing pad and deposited it on the mattress.

“I am sorry you had to leave Polis- leave Lexa behind,” Abby said earnestly.

Clarke’s stomach rolled as she remembered exactly under what circumstances she had left Lexa. She had told nobody about the accident, the fact that Lexa was at best bedridden at the moment, if not worse. Clarke had to pray it wasn’t worse. “Me too,” she admitted, “But then I suppose it isn’t until you’ve got to leave it behind that you truly realise the value of what you’ve got.” It was an admonishment that she knew would answer any lingering questions her mother might have had about how far Clarke’s relationship with Lexa had developed since the night she had sketched.

Abby met her eyes and gave a nod of understanding. “On that note, I really should be getting back to work, I don’t like leaving Jackson on his own too long.”

“Getting busy?” Clarke asked,

“More people each day,” Abby replied, “Although not everyone is seeking medical help for their hunger,” she added and Clarke immediately picked up on the quiet anger in her voice.

“Jaha’s chips?” Clarke guessed. 

Abby’s only response was to clench her jaw. “Eat the rest of you ration,” she ordered and with that, Abby left her daughter alone again.

Clarke sighed and reached her hand into the bowl, taking the rest of the food and eating it in one go. Once she had finished chewing, she picked up her drawing pad in one hand and the cup of water in the other and then she got up off the bed and moved to sit on her desk. She opened the pad at the next blank page and grabbed her pencil. Clarke began to sketch out the lines and curves of a woman’s back, the words of her mother echoing in her mind, “You draw what you dream of.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The queue was the longest it had ever been. In the quiet corner of the hangar that Jaha had seemed to have claimed as his space, he stood straight as each person approached him in turn, opened their mouth compliantly and took the chip he offered to them. The blockade was beginning to take a serious toll on the residents of Arkadia. Once the news that those who had already taken the chips were absolutely free from the pains and aches that came with chronic hunger had spread, Jaha was opening more minds to the City of Light than ever before.

He passed out a chip to the last person- for now- and then moved to take his place in the circle that had formed on the floor of the hangar, dropping onto his knees. ALIE appeared to all of them in the centre of the circle and she turned and regarded each person with a kind smile.

“Welcome, friends,” she said, “Welcome Arkadia to a new beginning, a new and perfect reality.”

The rest was wordless, as ALIE used the signal emitted from the silicon filaments in the chips they had swallowed to take control of her new followers and guide them for the first time into the City of Light. The circle of people found themselves overlooking a beautiful coastal vista, the bright city stretching out behind them. Those who had not seen the spectacle before looked nothing short of flabbergasted. Jaha watched and savoured each reaction, an immense sense of satisfaction filling him as he saw his people in states of happiness and awe only ever dreamed of until that moment. 

“It’s beautiful,” one man, one of the guards, spoke up.

“Isn’t it?” Jaha agreed, “And it is ours to visit and enjoy whenever we like.” Jaha regarded his people and stretched out his arms, gesturing that he was about to make a speech, “You have been well rewarded for your leap of faith and it is important that we guide our friends to see the light- to see the City of Light- too. Imagine that. This city, filled with people. No more pain. No hate or envy, just freedom to be and to live in peace. Out there in the real world we know we are not welcome. But here, here we are finally safe.”

The crowd of people clapped raucously at that. Jaha smiled and bowed his head in thanks. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monty peered over his shoulder at the circle of meditating people- at least that’s what they appeared to be doing- over in the far corner of the hanger. He made a face and shook his head, wondering how so many people could give in to such folly when there was so much work that needed to be done around Arkadia. He turned back to face the counter he was sat at and reached out for his soldering iron, deciding it was time to stop nosing and get back to his job at fixing the pile of fried circuit boards Sinclair had dumped on him.

Before he could take the soldering iron from it’s stand however, he was interrupted by Jasper’s sudden appearance to his left. His friend- if he could still be considered that- banged both hands down onto the counter.

“What are you doing why are you doing it?” Jasper said in a tone lighter and more like his old playful self than Monty had heard in far too long. Monty turned to his friend with raised eyebrows.

“Fried circuit boards. Need fixing. Who are you and what have you done with Jasper?” Monty shot back.

Jasper sniggered as he plonked himself onto the top of the work counter and swung his legs, “I have turned a page my friend, a new leaf,” he said offhandedly.

Monty squinted and then opened his mouth as realisation struck, “You took a chip.”

Jasper leaned close, “I took a chip,” he whispered back dramatically.

Monty sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Aren’t you late for,” he gestured back over to the circle of people with Jaha, “Whatever that is?”

“What the crazy crew? Nah.” Jasper waved a dismissive hand, “The chip took away my emotional baggage and I haven’t had a single hunger pang despite the frankly dismal amount of food I’ve eaten. That’s enough for me,”

“I hope that’s all it’s taken from you,” Monty muttered darkly, but then as if cued his stomach gave a painful lurch and suddenly, what Jasper had just said was a lot less alarming and a lot more appealing, “Wait,” Monty started, “You don’t feel hungry at all?”

“Nope,” Jasper confirmed.

“Well surely that’s dangerous. If you don’t feel pain how does your body know to react to it,”

Jasper pulled a face, “I’m still eating. The rations are enough to just keep you going sure, but why wouldn’t you jump at the chance to get rid of that constant gnawing…” Jasper reached out and jabbed Monty hard in the side as he said the last word. Monty swatted Jasper’s hand away, although he had to admit that the apparent return of his old immature best friend was a huge comfort. But then the reason for why it was so comforting struck Monty and his face fell,

“I can’t. I can’t be distracted from-” Monty paused and looked around to make sure nobody was in listening distance. When he spoke again, his voice was so low that Jasper had to lean to hear, “I’m worried about my Mum. Her blind support of Pike, the things she’s done. I mean, I sided with him too at first but after I heard they locked Kane and Nate up-” Monty stopped there, too afraid to say more.

“Yeah that sucks,” Jasper agreed, “But I’m just saying that a lot of what your Mum is doing is probably a response to the crap she’s had to put up with since getting down here. Same with all of us. We deserve a break,” Jasper paused and pointed over to Jaha, “He’s offering one,”

“You sound like you’re giving a sales pitch,” Monty chided. 

Jasper shrugged. “Come on,” he prompted, “You told me you weren’t fine with what happened at the mountain, about helping Clarke to irradiate level five. Why not get rid of that guilt whilst you have the opportunity to?”

Some part of Monty was alarmed at the casual, almost neutral tone with which Jasper referred to the irradiation of Mount Weather. But mostly he was pleasantly surprised at Jasper’s show of concern for him. Jasper was right, he still hadn’t really taken the time to process the part he had played at the mountain, too afraid of what it might do to him to try.

Monty peered over his shoulder to the ‘meditating’ group again and he could not deny the serene look on the faces of each person in the circle. It was a stark comparison to the lines of anger and worry that permanently marred his Mother’s once kind, soft face. It certainly looked like more fun that the constant nagging guilt he walked around with. About Mount Weather. About going along with Pike for long enough to see one friend killed and another imprisoned. That was almost enough for Monty to spring out his seat and approach Jaha right then and there and ask for two chips. Before he could however, the peaceful atmosphere of the hangar was disrupted by the sound of heavy boots on the floor as Pike entered flanked by two armed guards and got to Jaha first.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pike strode into the centre of the circle and stood in front of Peterson with his arms crossed. The guard was supposed to be on duty in the cell room. His presence in the hangar was troubling.

“Peterson!” Pike boomed. He got no response,

“You’ll have to give him a moment,”came a voice from behind. Pike turned and regarded Jaha, his chin tilting upward in a show of superiority. “It always takes a little time to return the first few goes,” Jaha explained cryptically,

“Return from where?” Pike questioned. The smile Jaha gave, wide and earnest, made him uneasy,

“Why, from a better place,” was all the explanation Jaha offered. It felt like a blow and Pike reared up,

“I told you I wouldn’t interfere in your little support group as long as it did not interfere with my work. Now one of my guards has neglected his duty in favour of joining you.”

As if on cue, Peterson finally opened his eyes and Pike could clearly see the way the man’s face fell as he took in his surroundings, as if he had indeed returned from somewhere far more pleasant. Still, what good was that place if it existed in the mind only? Pike was working towards a safe future in the real world, he was not interested in easy solutions.

“Chancellor Sir?” Peterson picked himself up off the floor and stood to attention.

“Guard why are you not at your post?” Pike said and he did not hold back the anger in his voice. He watched as Peterson swallowed.

“I’m sorry Sir, only I heard that the chips Jaha was giving out stopped you from feeling hungry. I couldn’t concentrate on keeping post, my stomach was cramping so I-”

Pike put up a hand to stop Peterson mid-sentence. He regarded his guard with hard eyes. “Well now you’ve taken your chip,” he said simply,

“Yes Sir, sorry Chancellor.”

Jaha, who had been watching the exchange from the floor, finally stood up and moved closer to Pike. The man clasped his hands in front of him. 

“I apologise if our little gathering has inconvenienced you, Chancellor Pike,” Jaha said perfectly evenly, the voice of a man who was born and raised for politics, “Only this blockade is taking it’s toll on our people and since I have something that can help with that, I cannot in good consciousness turn anyone away, even an on-duty guard who himself has admitted to struggling to fulfill his duty thanks to the work environment.”

The tone of Jaha’s voice did nothing but grate on Pike’s nerves and he wheeled on the former Chancellor, “We are all suffering under the outsider’s blockade. But we solve that by continuing to work towards a real solution. Running away into the sanctuary of our minds does nothing to move us towards a better Arkadia,”

Jaha was only half listening, Pike could tell. The man wasn’t looking at him, was rather looking past his shoulder as if there was someone behind Pike with more interesting things to say. Pike briefly turned his head and observed empty air.

“If we have the City of Light, we won’t need a better Arkadia,” Jaha replied.

Pike had half a mind to order his guards to arrest Jaha for his insolence. He did not however, reminding himself of why he had come to the hangar. It wasn’t just to find a wayward guard, but to put that guard to work.

“We will talk about this later,” Pike said and he wagged a finger at Jaha. Then he regarded Peterson, “You are needed in the cell room immediately. I want you and Tate to gather up the prisoners, all of them except for Nathan Miller and Octavia Blake, and march them to the front gate.”

“Sir?” Peterson asked for further clarification,

“It’s time we did something pro-active about this damned blockade,” Pike said and then he motioned to the guards he had entered the hangar with to follow him back out and towards the living quarters.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Murphy sighed as he checked the last dark corner of the cave to find it empty. Over the past week, he had already tried two other hideouts in the area and found no sign of Emori, and now he had another to strike off the list.

He was almost sure that Emori would not have followed him all the way into Polis. To the borders of the city perhaps, but no further. The capital was no doubt crawling with guards and law-keepers and was no place for wanted thieves to go. Of course she could be dead already, killed or captured right after he had been and put down in a ditch in the side of the road, maybe even dragged to a nearby village to be made an example of. Grounders did like to make a show of justice.

Murphy stood and regarded the empty space of the small cave a while longer, his face falling as his eyes found the corner he and Emori had slept in, arms wrapped tightly around one another and breaths tickling each other’s faces as they laughed and muttered about another day of successful thievery. It already seemed like a lifetime ago.

Murphy shook his head and turned on his heel, slinking out of the cave back into the light of day. He’d been at his search for a week to no avail but he would not give up and he had enough time to check the nearby water sources and hunting grounds on the off chance that Emori was there. He had taken no more than three steps out of the mouth of the cave into the woods when he felt himself being grabbed from behind, a familiar blade pressing immediately to his neck. Murphy grinned and raised his hands in surrender,

“Find anything in there you liked, thief?” Emori’s voice tickled in his ear.

“In there? No. Out here though?” Murphy offered back and he smiled wider as Emori laughed in his ear and then withdrew her blade from his throat. She shoved him away from her. He turned and took her in, his gaze soon dropping sheepishly to the floor as he was still unused to the feelings of adoration and happiness that the sight of her instilled in his bones.

“I thought you said when people leave on the ground, they don’t come back?” Emori teased him.

“Well,” Murphy sniffed, “Technically I didn’t leave by choice so it doesn’t count.”

Emori gave him a wide smile and closed the distance between them. He bowed his head and met her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. And another. And another. FInally she pulled away again,

“I’m sorry I didn’t come after you,” she whispered.

Murphy shrugged. “Don’t be, they would've caught you too. They took me to the capital, you know.”

“I know,” Emori said. There was a pause as they regarded each other and then Emori reached out and took Murphy’s hand, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Murphy pulled his face, “No,” he said simply, “Well not right now,” he added as he pulled her close again. Emori offered him a sly smile and began to walk backwards, leading him by the hand back into the cave he had just left.

“Come on thief,” she said.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke pouted her lips and furrowed her brow as she tried one more time, dragging the tip of the pencil over the paper, once, twice, connecting each line to those already drawn. She lifted the pencil away and assessed her work. Clarke allowed herself a satisfied smirk as finally, after umpteen efforts, she had managed to do some sort of justice to the image she had conjured in her mind. She was sketching Lexa again.

This time she was remembering a moment after they had made love, when time had finally caught up to them and they’d had to put an end to their dalliance. Clarke had been so against the idea of getting out of the bed and so she had watched as Lexa took the honour first, as if she knew that that was the only way to get Clarke to follow suit. But first Clarke had taken the opportunity to drink in the sight before her, Lexa clambering out of the furs, the sunlight illuminating the graceful toned plane of her inked back as she had stretched out and then swept her mussed hair back over her shoulder. It was that moment, that action of Lexa’s hand sweeping her hair back into place that Clarke had chosen to sketch. She’d hit a snag in her attempt at sketching the lines of Lexa’s neck and had not stopped erasing and starting over until it was just so.

So wrapped up was Clarke in her work and the pleasant images she was recalling that she barely registered when the door to her room slid open. She all but jumped out of her seat when Pike’s voice rang out in the total silence,

“Clarke Griffin, you are coming with us!” He demanded.

Clarke let out a breath and steadied herself and then she pushed herself out of her seat and rounded to face the intruder with a raised brow. When she saw Pike glance down at what she had been working on, she set her chin and fixed her eyes upon him, daring him to make a comment. He did not.

“Where are you taking me?” She finally caved to her curiosity and asked.

“For a walk to the blockade line,” Pike answered, evasive.

“Why?”

Pike met her gaze and stared her down, “You’ll see,” was all he offered and then he motioned for his guards. 

Clarke did not resist when the guards approached her and one of them cuffed her hands behind her back. Clarke was marched out of the room she had lived in for a week, but she barely took in the surroundings of Arkadia as she was led through the metal corridors and finally out into the weak sunlight of the day. She focused instead on the back of Pike’s head and she thought of how it might look displayed on the point of a spear.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lincoln leaned his head forward and rested it on Octavia’s shoulder. She turned and smiled at him in response and the sight lifted his mood immeasurably even despite the circumstances. They were sat on the floor of the cell, Lincoln with his back up against the wall and Octavia in front, leaning back against his chest. The cell was hard and cold but for now at least, Lincoln’s whole world was filled with light and warmth.

The other residents of the cell were scattered about their own little territories. The other Trikru were huddled together, whispering constantly in Trigedasleng. Miller kept to himself in one corner. Kane had spent the whole week alternating between pacing the limited space and leaning his head against the bars as if they would spring open with the sheer force of his concentration.

Everyone avoided the left corner of the cell. There lay Danai’s body. She had finally slipped away last night. Lincoln had cradled her and watched the last traces of life leave the woman and had told her that her fight was over. The guards had not yet bothered to come and remove the body and so she had been carried to the corner of the cell and left there, covered by coats offered by two of her people. It was sickening, the idea that their lives were seen as so worthless, so expendable that Pike’s people thought it acceptable to keep them all locked up in a cage with a corpse. It felt like the guards were waiting for the rest of them to join Danai and have done with it all. Lincoln thought they were well on the way to that end as every resident of the cell had developed a noticeably frail air over the past week as their prisoner’s rations, already meager to begin with, had gotten less and less. Lincoln felt his stomach lurch at the very thought of food.

Lincoln sighed and tried to press his face closer to Octavia, burying into the curve of her neck. She reached out with a hand and caressed his cheek. He was about to speak when the door to the cell room opened and the guard called Peterson walked in along with Bellamy.

Lincoln picked his head back up and watched intently as the two new arrivals spoke to Guardsman Tate, who had been on watch, in a low whisper. Then all three men approached the cell and the door was opened. That got everybody’s attention.

Lincoln assumed that they had come to finally take Danai’s corpse away and so he patted Octavia and once she had moved out of the way he stood up and began to walk over to the body, intending to pick her up and pass her over, hoping that that small display of gentleness and respect would make up for whatever came next. It was doubtful she would be honoured with the proper funeral rites. 

Lincoln almost made it to the body when Bellamy spoke up,

“On your knees Lincoln, hands on your head,” he ordered.

Lincoln ground his teeth but complied. He turned away from the body to face Bellamy and dropped to his knees, placing his hands one over the other on top of his head.

“That goes for the rest of you too,” Bellamy continued and he pointed his rifle towards the Trikru prisoners. They grumbled and looked to Lincoln for clarification of what they were being ordered at gunpoint to do. Lincoln told them in their own language.

One by one the grounders began to drop to their knees. It was like there was no fight left in them at all and the sight devastated Lincoln. He looked over to Octavia. He was surprised that not even she had anything to say about Bellamy’s actions and was even more surprised when he watched her pick herself up off the floor and join the line of people kneeling down.

“Kane, you too,” Bellamy said, and he seemed to be pointedly avoiding looking in his sister’s direction.

Kane complied without argument, joining the end of the line next to Octavia. 

Next, Bellamy gave a nod to Peterson and the guard walked around behind Lincoln. Lincoln felt as his hands were moved behind his back and then a pair of handcuffs were secured to his wrists.

“Up,” Peterson barked. Lincoln stood up and remained silent.

Peterson went down the line, securing the hands of each grounder and ordering them to stand until he got to Octavia,

“Not her,” Bellamy spoke up again now.

Lincoln felt his blood run cold and he turned towards Octavia. Sure enough, her face was contorted into a snarl,

“What do you mean not me?”

Bellamy ignored the question and motioned with his head that Peterson should go ahead and cuff Kane.

“What do you mean not me?” Octavia demanded again and now she sprang up onto her feet. Before she could move however, Bellamy rushed forward and took his sister strongly by the arms,

“Don’t argue this, O,” he said.

“Tell me what I’m arguing and then I’ll decide whether to stop or not,” Octavia spat back and she jerked her body away from her brother’s hold and squared up at him. Lincoln would have felt proud if he did not feel so hopeless.

“The traitors and outsiders are being taken to the blockade line to send a message to the Commander.”

Lincoln could see Octavia’s anger begin to bubble over. Her eyes were alight with it and her nostrils flared,

“What message?”

Bellamy worked his jaw. Whatever it was, he was obviously quite in fear of the reaction it would bring. Lincoln already knew, he almost wanted to shout it out to Octavia just to see what would happen. But he remained silent and instead fixed his gaze on Bellamy too, daring him to admit what was going on.

Bellamy opened his mouth and then closed it again. When he opened it again, his voice was strained, “Octavia you have no idea how hard I had to fight to get Pike to let you off on this one, to secure you the same sentence as Miller.”

“As opposed to?” Octavia asked but now the answer was all too obvious and Lincoln’s heart ached as he watched Octavia’s face contort into despair, “Don’t,” was all she managed. 

Bellamy regarded his sister a moment longer before he turned his attention back towards Peterson. “Lead them out,” he said.

Peterson nodded and took Kane by the shoulder and began to walk him out of the cell, motioning that the other handcuffed prisoners should fall in line behind. They all did.

Eventually it was just Bellamy, Octavia and Lincoln left in the cell.

“Say your goodbyes, but make them quick,” Bellamy said to his sister.

Octavia could not move however. With the full magnitude of what was happening hitting her all at once, the young woman was frozen. She began to shake her head and her lips were trembling and then she let out a loud wrenching sob as the tears came and Lincoln felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest at the sound.

He rushed forward and wished that he could reach out and hold Octavia but his handcuffs prevented that and so he simply placed himself in between her and her brother and looked down at her with all of the love and adoration he could muster.

“Octavia sen ai op,” he whispered. There was a beat and then Octavia lifted her face to him and the sight of her grey green eyes swimming with tears was the most terrible thing. “You have to be strong now,” he said.

She shook her head again, “I can’t.” Her voice was cracked. She almost crumpled forward into him, pressing their bodies close to rest her head against his chest. He placed his head on top of hers,

“Yes, yes you can,” he murmured, trying to keep his own voice even for her sake, “You are strong, Octavia. The strongest person I know.”

“Times up,” Bellamy’s voice cut into the moment and Lincoln had to hold himself back from wheeling on the man who could do this to his own little sister and killing him then and there, handcuffs or no.

Octavia wrapped her arms around Lincoln tightly, “Spare him,” she croaked out.

“I can’t,” Bellamy relied instantly, “He’s an outsider O. And you aren’t. Pike’s orders were clear.” With that Bellamy moved towards the lovers and began to pull Lincoln away from Octavia’s iron grip. She was having none of it,

“Let me go, Octavia.”

“No.”

“Let me go,” Lincoln said as gently as he could and finally Octavia relented with her grip and Lincoln was pulled out of her arms and turned towards the cell door.

“Ai hod yu in!” Octavia called out hoarsely.

Lincoln turned and looked over his shoulder as he was led over the threshold of the cell door,

“Ai hod yu in seintaim. Otaim.” Lincoln replied as Bellamy slammed the cell door closed.

Lincoln and Kane and the rest of the prisoners were marched out of the cell room towards the building’s exit. Lincoln could hear Octavia’s wails all the way down the corridor and when she was at last out of earshot, still they echoed in his mind.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monty was one of many people who had gathered outside to watch the parade of prisoners being lead up to and quickly out of the front gate to the settlement, lead by a determined looking Chancellor Pike and flanked on all sides by six guards, Bellamy among them.

There were whispers in the crowd about what exactly was happening, but nothing concrete. Whatever it was, Pike obviously wanted to make the exit from Arkadia as quiet as possible, no doubt to avoid trouble and worse from those who still sympathised with the outsiders. But since Kane and Clarke were also among those being led away in handcuffs, Monty knew it wouldn’t be long before the whole camp knew about the proceedings. Word travelled fast in Arkadia whether you wanted it to or not.

“Wish I was going with them,” his mother’s voice came from his right side and startled Monty. He shook himself and dragged his eyes away from the shutting gate to look at his mother.

“Where are they going?” He asked, though his stomach was already sinking in anticipation of the answer,

“To the blockade line. The traitors and the outsiders are to be executed to send a message. We will not be herded like scared livestock,”

Monty’s eyes widened in shock at the ruthlessness in his mother’s voice and face, “Surely that’s dangerous! Doing that right in front of the grounders will only provoke an attack!”

“And when it does, they’ll be acting against the direct orders of their leader. And when she tries once again to stop them, they will kill her and we can take advantage in the chaos that follows.”

“Hell of a thank you for being shown mercy!” Monty spoke up before he could stop himself and his mother rounded on him,

“You call being starved out a mercy?” She snapped. She rarely snapped at him and Monty gulped.

“No,” he mumbled back and when his mother did not look impressed with his lack of conviction he spoke again, more clearly; “No. Of course it isn’t.” It earned him a nod.

Monty bit his lip. Whoever the woman was that was standing by his side, it was not his mother. Jasper was right. The things she had endured on the ground had changed her beyond recognition. Gone was the kind gentle woman who had raised him, an unfeeling and calculating fanatic standing in her place. He thought back to earlier that morning, when Jasper’s return to his own self had been equal parts miraculous and disconcerting. Monty focused now on the former and thought of getting his old mother back too. And of finally being free of his own demons.

“I should go,” he said, “More fried circuit boards to see to,”

His mother nodded, “Maybe soon you’ll have some crops to tend to. Like the old days,”she said and at last there was some hint of emotion in her voice, albeit melancholy.

“Like old days,” Monty agreed with his own half smile and he left his mother and the gathered crowd.

He was not returning to work however. He was going to find Jaha.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emori gave a sleepy smile as John’s hand stroked up her back. She shivered at the lightness of his touch, at the softness that he usually kept carefully hidden under his bravado and attitude.

He was an outsider, an outcast just like her and they had against all odds managed to find each other again and again. She lifted her head from where it was rested against his chest and beamed at him. He gave one of his lopsided half smiles back.

She settled back onto his chest and for a while they stayed silent, content in each other's presence. Emori listened to John’s heartbeat and soon enough, she found that the sound of life made her wonder about the fate of her brother in all but blood; Otan.

“I still want to find my brother, you know.” She ventured into the silence in a soft voice. She heard John give a low huff.

“It’s an even stupider move than before. The blockade-”

“Won’t be looking for people going towards Arkadia. We could slip through,” Emori argued,

“Or we could die,” John replied matter-of-factually.

Emori lifted her hand- her mutated hand uncovered without any shame- and pressed it to Murphy’s stomach. “You could have died trying to find me, but you took the risk. Why wouldn’t I for my brother?”

John stayed silent for a while. He placed his free hand over hers and she smiled as his thumb began to draw circles on her skin. “Even if we do slip past the blockade, Arkadia isn’t exactly grounder-friendly at the moment from what I’ve heard. You might not like what you find,” John’s voice was soft and comforting even as he offered hard truths.

“Maybe not. But it’s worse not knowing. You said that people don’t come back when they go away on this Earth. And sometimes that’s true. But sometimes it’s because those people are waiting for you to go to them. To move forward too and join them again.” Emori was resolute. Even though she had just gotten John back after fearing him dead, even though she knew she could spend an eternity wrapped in his arms, she also knew that Otan was the only person in the world that she would give that all up for. If he would not come with her, this time Emori would not wait for John to change his mind. 

Emori scowled when John disturbed her by getting up off of the makeshift bedroll. She was even more perplexed when he started to dress.

“What are you doing?” She asked,

“It took me a week to get here. It’ll take at least that to get to Arkadia,” John gave in explanation.

Emori laughed and she sprung up off the floor after him and began to seek out her own clothes. When they were both dressed and had gathered their supplies they regarded each other a moment,

“Thank you, John,” Emori said earnestly.

John merely shrugged and motioned to the cave exit. “After you,” he prompted and the pair left the sanctuary of their secret hideout and began their journey to Arkadia.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke kept her head raised in defiance and her walk confident the whole time on the group's trek to the blockade line. When the grounder camp on the five mile border finally came into view, her stomach lurched. She wasn’t afraid of her own impending death, not exactly. More, she was fearful for what fate lay in store for her people after the day was through. She was scared at the thought of the grounders seeking immediate retaliation. The blockade was huge, it needed to be to surround such a wide stretch of land. If that blockade turned into an attack force then Arkadia was doomed. Especially since Pike had led them away in such a hurry, obviously keen to avoid questions or any attempts to stop the execution from taking place. Arkadia would be totally unprepared for an attack of such scale.

Clarke also feared for what this execution meant for the Commander. If her people did indeed break the decree of blood must not have blood and she tried to put a stop to their taking vengeance once more, then Lexa would once again be in danger of being forcibly removed from power. Even if Titus was now on her side, he would be unable to stop the turning of the tide against her. 

And most selfishly, Clarke was terrified of what the news of her execution would do to Lexa. She felt physically sick at the idea of Indra having to return to Polis to tell Lexa that she had lost yet another person she cared for. It would surely break the young woman beyond any repair. 

Clarke grit her teeth and tried to keep her face neutral, her feelings and fears buried, as she and the other prisoners were marched within metres of the blockade line. Her eyes widened when it was Indra who stepped forward from the muddle of war tents and regarded Pike with her cool stare.

“What is this?” Indra demanded to know. She looked along the lines of prisoners and when her eyes fell on Clarke, Clarke tried to silently communicate what was happening, hoping to prepare Indra for what was to come.

“This is a message for your Commander and for your armies.”

By now a whole audience of grounders had gathered behind Indra, keen to see what was going on. Clarke heard some of them mutter something about the possibility of it being a ransom exchange; the prisoners for supplies or another similar request. Clarke sighed and wished that that was all it was.

She turned to Pike and shook her head at him. He regarded her, his gaze steely and unflinching.

“Guards, put the prisoners on their knees. Bellamy, take Clarke to one side and gag her.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows at that. “What are you doing?” She asked and as she spoke, she dodged out of Bellamy’s reach, refusing to go along with anything until she had an answer.

“You’re too valuable a source of information about the enemy to kill, Clarke. You are here because you need to hear the message we are sending loud and clear too,” Pike answered.

Clarke almost vomited. She hadn’t been marched there to die after all. She had been brought to watch the slaughter of the grounder prisoners and the execution of Lincoln and Kane. Pike truly saw her as an outsider and so she was to be subjected to the same horror as those making up the blockade were about to witness. Bellamy didn’t even need to force her now and Clarke fell onto her knees with a cry of anguish.

“Don’t!” She wailed, “Don’t do this!”

Her pleas were silenced when Bellamy knelt beside her and gagged her with a piece of cloth he’d procured from his pocket. She looked him straight in the eyes, implored him to see reason, to put a stop to it all. He did not react to her silent plea anymore than he had to her vocal ones. Clarke screamed as loud as she could around the gag as Bellamy simply picked himself up and walked back to Pike’s side.

By now all of the prisoners had been forced to their knees and gagged themselves. A few were visibly shaking with fear, tears spilling from their eyes. Others, Lincoln among them, kept their faces hard and determined. When Clarke looked at Kane she found his own face full of disappointment and disbelief and her heart went out to the man who had, against all expectations, proved to be one of her staunchest supporters.

Indra and the grounders in the blockade had watched the proceedings silently but when Clarke glanced over to them she could see the unmistakable signs of anger threatening to spill over and wreak havoc. The grounders’ holds on their weapons were firm, their body language communicating their desire to cross into Arkadia’s territory and lay waste to Pike and his men before the show could go any further. Indra must have sensed her people’s desire to attack because she wordlessly raised her hand, palm open, ordering them all to stay put.

Pike stepped in front of the line of prisoners and folded his arms over his chest. Clarke saw the disgust and contempt in his face as he regarded the group of warriors before him.

“Now I’m going to show you what happens when you threaten my people,” he started, his voice strong, “I’m going to show you so that you can return to your Commander and tell her what her blockade has achieved.”

With out any more fanfare, Pike moved and as he did so, he pulled a handgun from the holster strapped to his hip and flicked the safety off. The moment he was positioned behind the first grounder prisoner, an elderly man, he placed the gun to his head and fired from point blank range.

Clarke screwed her face up at the sight of the old man’s brains being blasted out of his skull and then in an instant, the body keeled over into a heap on the floor.

“When you treat people like animals,” Pike shouted and he moved to the next prisoner, “When you herd them into a cage and starve them of food and freedom…” Another shot rang out, echoing in the air and Clarke flinched. Another body. “They become animals!” Pike finished his sentence.

The third and fourth prisoners were dispatched in quick succession.

Clarke looked from the row of bodies, to Pike, to the grounders on the other side of the blockade line. They were all by now visibly having to restrain themselves from charging forward. Indra still kept her hand raised and her face was impressively passive to the horror unfolding before her. It was as if she knew that the moment she showed any rage herself, she would lose any right to order her people to stay back. 

“Your Commander thought that she was being merciful. Well we never asked for that mercy.” Pike continued on with his speech and Clarke's heart sunk as she knew exactly what he was aiming to achieve with his words. “Your Commander has you standing there like glorified guardsmen. Your Commander ordered you to stay on your side of the line so now you must watch and do nothing as your own people are slaughtered in front of you.”

The fifth grounder, the youngest of them, let out a yowl around his gag as Pike placed his gun to his head. “I do what I must to keep my people safe and your leader will not let you do the same.” Another gunshot. Another crumpled body on the ground. “How can you let that stand? Why are you here doing her bidding when you should be storming her tower and retaking control of your own destinies, of the traditions she blatantly disregards?”

Pike’s speech was doing its job. The grounders were incited, mumbling furiously to one another in trigedasleng.

“Em pleni!” Indra’s voice rang out, trying to dispel the anger. But Clarke knew Indra, she knew that Pike’s words were cutting too close to the doubts that Indra had always harboured about Lexa’s command. If the execution wasn’t stopped now, then Indra’s as of yet unswerving loyalty to her Commander could well finally shatter. That would mark the end of all hope for Lexa’s reign for sure.

Only Kane and Lincoln were left to execute. Clarke’s eyes moved from the blockade line to once again seek out Bellamy’s. His face was pale, despite his inaction he was clearly conflicted about the horrors he had been a part of creating. If only Clarke could will some sense into him from where she knelt, handcuffed and gagged and useless. She tried to form his name around the material in her mouth- it was unintelligible. She tried again and now Bellamy looked towards her. She watched as his jaw worked. She looked meaningfully over at Kane and then back to him and gave a shake of the head, trying to silently ask him, beg him not to let Pike continue. For a moment, she swore she could see shame on his face, but then he turned away again, unable to face her.

Clarke growled in anger and turned her attention back to Pike. He had moved in front of Kane and was bending to remove the man’s gag.

“Do you have anything to say?” Pike asked coolly.

Clarke watched as Kane regarded the man. If it was her she would've spat in Pike’s face. Instead Kane looked past Pike and regarded the blockade line.

“Indra,” he said, “My friend.”

Clarke watched as Indra’s mouth opened at the sentiment and the general inched forward so that she was on the very boundary line, as far as she could possibly go without breaking the terms of the blockade. Perhaps there was still hope.

“Our people can live together peacefully,” Kane spoke, “Your Commander wants her people to flourish just like I want mine to. She wants peace so that we can move into a brighter future together. So that we can learn from one another and raise each other up. Have faith in her and our other young leaders,” Kane glanced towards Clarke as he said that and she tried to give him a comforting nod in return although she barely managed because her entire body was shaking. Kane then looked back up at Pike, “The time for people like you has come to an end, Charles. There is no place for-”

The shot rang out before Kane could finish his final words, the bullet tearing through his face. Clarke felt as tears stung her eyes and she let out a shattering wail of anger and sadness and protest as she watched Marcus’s lifeless body hit the floor. A good, decent man gone in the blink of an eye in the name of blind anger and ignorance.

Time seemed to slow as Pike, evidently still incensed by Kane’s words, did not pause for more speech making and immediately lifted his gun to aim at Lincoln- the last prisoner still alive other than Clarke. He’d no doubt been left until last because his death would be the most painful for Indra to watch. The shot rang out.

Clarke was screaming around her gag again in despair before she registered what had happened. She watched, tearful eyes wide with confusion as Pike dropped his gun to the floor with his own pained cry and reached to take his mangled right hand in his left, blood streaming down his arm and onto the ground.

Clarke tried to shake herself from the daze and she looked over to Lincoln and was shocked beyond comprehension to see him still kneeling and very much alive. Finally her eyes fell onto Bellamy. He had his assault rifle trained on Pike, and Clarke realised where the shot had actually come from at last.

Bellamy shifted and aimed his weapon at each of Pike’s guards in turn, challenging them to make a move. They were all too shocked by what had just happened however and not one of the five of them seemed to have the brain capacity to think to raise their own weapon in time.

“Weapons unloaded and on the floor!” Bellamy’s voice rang out, the grip on his own rifle never loosening.

Clarke watched as Pike’s guards complied with the order. Guns and magazines clattered onto the grass. 

Next he turned his attention back to Pike and approached the wounded man. Bellamy reached and took the handcuff key from Pike’s belt and, keeping his rifle trained in one hand, he knelt and undid Lincoln’s cuffs and removed the gag.

“Go help Clarke,” Bellamy said and Lincoln nodded, took the key and approached Clarke.

Once Clarke was freed from her cuffs and un-gagged, she sprang onto her feet, adrenaline coursing through her body. Automatically, she approached one of the discarded weapons and reloaded it, hooking the strap over her shoulder. Then she quickly gathered up the other rifles and dumped them over the blockade line, safely out of reach. That’s when the idea struck her and she wheeled on Pike and trained her weapon on him.

“Indra!” She called out, “Tell your archers to aim at the guards. If any of them try to move, they shoot.”

Indra gave the order immediately, no doubt confident that if the shot had to be taken, Clarke would vouch for why the terms of the blockade had gotten a little muddied.

Confident that she no longer had anything to fear from Pike’s guards, and a little breathless at the quickness of the turnaround, Clarke edged closer to the Chancellor until her rifle was inches away from him. She drove the nozzle into Pike’s back and forced him to turn towards the blockade. In a moment, Bellamy was by her side, his weapon raised too.

“So what?” He said, “We shoot him now?”

Clarke wanted to cry some more at the sentiment, her fury at Bellamy retreating momentarily in the wake of relief at his finally returning to the right side of a civil war that never should have gone so far.

“No,” Clarke answered and her voice was low and dangerous, “Let them have him,” she snarled.

Bellamy nodded in understanding and together they drove Pike forward. The man was clearly in great pain, blood still pouring from where his fingers used to be on his right hand and he gave no protest. He knew he had lost, that what Kane had said in his final seconds had come to pass already. There was no place for people like him in the future that Clarke and the Commander, and hopefully now all of their people together, were about to forge.

They stopped when Pike’s feet reached the borderline, marked on the ground at some point with a stick dragged through the dirt.

Clarke dropped her assault rifle to her side. She felt feral and so she took a step backwards and then launched forward, shoving all of her weight into Pike’s back so that the Chancellor staggered and fell over into the dirt on the other side of the line.

The sudden flurry of activity on the other side was electric as grounder after grounder surged forward, unable to contain their lust for revenge any longer. War cries rang out in the air. Pike was dragged by the feet further into their territory and then he was buried under the forms of so many warriors taking out their vengeance, most of them not even bothering to use their weapons, beating and tearing and clawing with their bare hands instead. Pike's screams of agony lasted a sickeningly long time before there was nothing left but silence.

Indra did not join in the fray and instead she came up to the borderline and regarded Clarke.

“I will take word to the Commander of Pike’s death. The blockade must remain in place until you and your allies have secured control of Arkadia and sworn yourselves loyal once again to the Coalition.”

Clarke gave a nod. Daringly, she reached out her hand across the borderline, offering it to Indra. They clasped arms, a show of unity stretching across the gulf between them.

When Clarke stepped back she was suddenly very aware of all the work that lay ahead of her to put things right for her people. The prospect rekindled her anger at all that had transpired and she found herself lifting her rifle again, this time to point it at Bellamy.

Bellamy tilted his head in shock and hurt but said nothing, his eyes swam with tears as if finally his actions and their consequences were catching up to him. Clarke knew the feeling, but she could muster no sympathy.

“Bring the bodies of the grounders to the borderline so that their people may take them home,” she ordered in a quiet voice.

Bellamy gave a sad nod and set about it. Lincoln helped in silence, working as the go between since he was technically free to pass over the blockade line. When it was done though, Lincoln remained on the Arkadia side, obviously keen to return to Octavia, to let her know that he was still breathing. It was a small comfort.

When each body had been handed over, there was a moment of tense silence. Clarke kept her gun trained on Bellamy and she seriously considered driving him to the same fate as Pike. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge of how much more Bellamy would suffer to have to live with all that he had done. She wanted everyone in Arkadia to see that shame and so finally she made her decision.

“You’re going to carry Marcus’s body back to Arkadia,” she explained, voice hoarse by now, “And when everyone asks what happened you are going to tell them that you stood by and watched as a monster slaughtered a decent man. And then you and every single person still loyal to Pike are going to march yourselves into a cell and there you can rot for all I care,” Clarke spat the last part out.

Bellamy said nothing. He had no arguments left to make. Silently, he walked over to Marcus Kane’s lifeless form, picked the body up and waited to be ordered forward. Tears were streaming down his face.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa let out a groan as she readjusted herself on the mattress, the movement entirely too painful as her injured body tensed in protest. Her abdomen was healing well, but she was terribly weak and the healing process left her drained. The skin where Clarke had cauterised the exit wound had been cleaned up and properly treated but still it was painfully tight. Her entire upper body hurt immensely. Lexa had never felt so useless.

“Steady, you’ll hurt yourself more!” Titus’s concerned voice rang out and the flamekeeper rushed to her bedside and helped her to re-position her pillows so that they adequately supported her weight. Lexa gave a murmur of annoyance at his fussing,

“I’m fine, Titus,” she snapped but then she caught herself and took a breath, her jaw working as she tried to let go of her frustrations, “Really,” she said, her voice even again, “I need to move to keep my strength up,”

“Yes, but you are pushing too hard as always!”

Lexa rolled her eyes.

“I’ll set the natblidas to sparring practice instead today, they don’t need to disturb-” Titus began,

“No. You will bring them here for their lesson as I requested,” Lexa cut in.

She had insisted on still giving lessons to the novitiates. Sparring was important practice but Lexa knew that it did not shape a leader. Her one-on-one lessons were incredibly important to the natblidas’ progress. The close call she had had only reaffirmed her motivation to make sure that the right sort of legacy would live on after her. It was her duty to ready the young ones for the day one of them would take command and to make sure that when they did so, they were prepared. That they would possess all the understanding of their peoples’ wants and needs they required to make their rule a peaceful one. It was her job to pass the right sort of lessons on and whether or not she was bedridden did nothing to change that fact.

Titus looked like he might protest again but instead he gave a nod and left her alone in her room as he went to fetch the natblidas. He had been much more taciturn and agreeable recently, keeping more of his thoughts to himself, trying to find it within himself to finally have faith in what Lexa was trying to achieve for their people. Lexa was as gladdened by it all as she was disheartened that it had taken something so extreme for Titus’s change of heart to occur. Still, despite their differences and all that transpired, Lexa loved the man like a father-figure and as long as he seemed to have changed his tune, she would not have to think about punishing him. She couldn’t stand the thought.

Lexa’s face fell as the idea brought memories to the surface, she saw herself in her mind's eye, plunging her sword into Gustus’ chest in response to his own treachery against her. His last words to her echoed in her mind. Ste yuj. She wondered if her interpretation of that last request would have made her old bodyguard and friend proud. Whether he would be pleased that she had taken it as a challenge to see her vision of total peace through to fruition with renewed fervour. Whether he would see Lexa’s daring to open her heart to someone again as being strong. Whether proving to all who might doubt her that it was possible to live a full, enriched life as a leader- because surely that was how one best inspired others to strive for the same- was the ultimate testament to her strength. She hoped so.

The sounds of high-pitched laughter and chatter shook Lexa from her memories and she refocused her thoughts on the lesson she had planned for today.

The door to her room opened and the natblidas spilled into the space, their wide eyes seeking her out and lighting up at the sight of their Commander awake and healing. She smiled brightly at them all,

“It’s not half as bad as it looks,” she joked and they laughed. “Come, gather around on the bed and we’ll begin today’s lesson.”

As the novitiates took their places about the mattress, the youngest instinctively claiming the spaces closest to their teacher, Lexa lifted her head and regarded Titus.

“Leave us,” she requested and Titus gave a nod and exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Lexa scanned the faces of each natblida. She considered her words for a moment, knowing that what she had planned for today was incredibly risky if not entirely a step too far. “So,” she began, “Who can describe the process of the conclave to me?”

It was Aden who spoke up first, as usual, “Each natblida must duel to the death. The last one left alive is the chosen vessel for the Commander’s spirit, as proven by their superior strength.”

“So the suitability of the new host is measured on battle prowess alone?” Lexa prompted. She watched as the natblidas furrowed their brow at that idea.

“No…” one of the youngest girls, Pia, spoke up.

“No,” Aden agreed with her, “The core pillars of being the Commander are wisdom, compassion and strength. But the conclave only tests strength!”

“I see,” Lexa offered little guidance. She wanted the ideas to come from her potential successors as a measure of how much they’d taken her previous teachings to heart. She wanted them to help her change history. “So how would you all propose changing the process of the conclave so that it tests all the necessary attributes of a good leader? So that it can in future better ensure that the right person is chosen to host the spirit?”

The ideas came thick and fast, each natblida calling out over each other at once until some semblance of turn-taking was developed. Lexa’s heart swelled with admiration and pride and love at each thought they shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say a few words about Bellamy's fate as of yet. I've had a few comments asking for him to be killed for his actions and honestly, it's more than deserved given what he has done over the course of the show itself. However, I've decided to keep him alive for now because the writing of his character is season 3 is something I detest and would certainly have changed were I retconning more than just the end of 307 in this work. From the lazy fridging of Gina (Gina who?) to fuel his manpain, to the way he has treated Octavia, the regression his characterisation has taken simply to serve the Pike storyline is awful. So in honour of what Bellamy could have and should have been allowed to flourish into following his amazing season 2 arc, I am as of yet leaving his fate somewhat open.
> 
> If you want him to die, or rot in his cell, or take the long road to forgiveness when my narrative is through, I'll leave that up to you. Feel free to discuss this with me further if you wish :)
> 
>  
> 
> Alternative ending to the final scene: Commander Lexa forgoes the lesson and she and the natblidas sing a song about their Favourite Things instead-
> 
> “Daggers and glitter, good books and candles  
> Tattoos and nap time and Clarke Griffin’s love handles”


	4. "Keep Your Temper."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days after the execution at the blockade line and Arkadia finds itself in a state of mourning. As acting Chancellor, Clarke is already starting to feel the weight of responsibility as she tries to clean up the mess left in the wake of Pike's violent end. Octavia and Lincoln make plans for the future and Octavia confronts Bellamy. Meanwhile, Monty and Raven continue to obsess over the work they are doing for ALIE and the AIs influence begins to spread at an alarming rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite heavy and I genuinely found parts distressing and creepy to write. Please go careful and take any time you need in between reading. Tea and biscuit breaks and blankets recommended.

Chapter 4: “Keep Your Temper.”

The rain had fallen steadily since morning, the sky a dark, foreboding grey and the breeze bitter cold. The gloominess of the weather was matched, if not surpassed, by the atmosphere among the residents of Arkadia. Clarke let out a deep sigh and she raised her face to the sky, letting raindrops splash on her cheeks and there they became indistinguishable from the tears that fell from her eyes. She lowered her head again and regarded the shape of Marcus Kane’s body, wrapped in a bedsheet and laid out on the grass just outside the walls of Arkadia. It was where the bodies of those of the hundred lost in Mount Weather three months ago had been carried and put to rest and now Marcus would join them. To the left of the body was the grave, dug out ready in the early morning by Sinclair and Miller.

It had taken three days after the day of the execution for things in Arkadia to settle down following Pike’s death. Three days of restructuring the chain of command, of making arrests and a few threats where necessary. Bit by bit, Pike’s influence had faded enough until finally Clarke had the majority of her people back on her side. Or at the very least, willing to delegate to her for the time being and trust her to see them through to the end of the blockade. They were still waiting for word from the grounders that the blockade had ended, Indra having sworn to take the news of Pike’s defeat to Lexa. It wouldn’t be long and then Arkadia could decide once again who should lead them. But until then, Clarke had stepped up to the task and as the dust had settled she’d made arranging a proper burial for Marcus one of her first priorities. Now, as acting Chancellor, it fell to her to lead the proceedings.

Clarke shifted her attention from Marcus’s body to the gathering of people before her. Most of Arkadia it seemed like were standing and waiting for her to speak. Even presented with so many faces, Clarke’s eyes immediately found her Mother’s in the crowd. She felt her heart lurch at the grief in her Mother’s face, the way she was huddled into herself, the visible shake of her shoulders as tears came unbidden. Clarke swallowed and looked away.

“Marcus…” she began, but her voice was cracked and far too quiet. Clarke cleared her throat, breathed as evenly as she could and tried once more; “Marcus Kane was a kind, generous, peace-loving man. In life he dedicated himself to serving his people. As a council member on the Ark. As Chancellor and Guardsman on the ground. As friend and mentor always. In death-” Clarke paused and allowed the weight of that word, of that finality, hang in the air a moment; “In death he should be remembered for all he gave to us and for us. And he should be held as example of the type of person we should all strive to be down on our new home.”

Clarke glanced around at the faces in the crowd again. Some of them were nodding at her words. Most remained subdued, heads bowed and eyes on the floor.

“Marcus was not afraid to make tough calls when they were needed,” Clarke continued on and she knew that everyone present would know exactly what she was referring to with her words. “But he understood that those difficult decisions that we must sometimes make do not and should not define who we are. When Marcus arrived on the ground, he understood more than anyone that to make a home down here would require us to be the best we can possibly be. To take a chance on peace and forgiveness so that we might carve a place for the Sky people among those already living on the Earth. Marcus championed not just acceptance of new cultures and ideas, but actively seeking to understand, respect, and learn from those ideas. To take the time to find the common beliefs among us all. The common goals and desires that can unite us for years to come.” Clarke measured each word she chose. The message she was sending was vastly important but she did not want Marcus’s funeral service to sound like a political statement, only a statement about the tragedy of the loss of such a good soul. She took a breath. 

“Marcus wanted us all to be safe and happy. He wanted us to live long, prosperous and peaceful lives here. Our arrival on the ground was violent but our future is what we make it. Marcus had faith in our ability to flourish here. Personally, he had faith in me even when I doubted my own difficult decisions. And I am sure he was often as generous with his time and encouragement with many of you as well. The best way that we can honour and move forward from this terrible, untimely loss is to prove to his memory and to ourselves that his faith in his people, a faith he held onto right until his last moments, was not in vain. We can make a good life down here. And we will.”

There were murmurs of support and agreement from the crowd. Clarke picked out the most familiar faces. Miller and Harper standing together. Lincoln and Octavia on the edge of the group, arms wrapped around one another. When Clarke met Octavia’s gaze, she found more gratitude and respect in her friend's’ eyes than she had seen in a long time. Clarke offered a weak, supportive smile in return.

She continued to assess the crowd. A shiver prickled up her neck as she noted those who were absent. She could not pick out Raven or Monty. Jaha was not present either, nor were most of his followers. That was troubling, especially considering that many of the faces were Farm station survivors, those who had weighted the scales and put Pike into power. The sight of Clarke, Lincoln and Bellamy returning, Bellamy carrying Marcus’s lifeless body, and the news of what had transpired at the blockade line had finally opened their eyes. The tipping point that Clarke had been waiting for had come sooner and in a more horrifying manner than she’d ever banked on. Clarke thought that perhaps it was time to accept that that was just how things happened on the ground but then she knew that was only giving in to the sort of pessimistic thinking she’d just been speaking against in Marcus’s memory. She, like Marcus, did not want that to be the reality of life on the ground and so she would continue fighting to make sure that it wasn’t. With every fibre of her being and every breath left she would fight for the peace that everyone deserved. Clarke felt her chin wobble as her thoughts brought her very own words back to her, echoing in her mind; ‘shouldn’t life be about more than just surviving?’ She had to believe in those words now more than ever. 

Clarke shook away the feelings of unease at who was and wasn’t present for the funeral and the weight of the responsibilities that lay ahead and she focused again on leading the burial. Clarke expelled a shaky breath and she turned to the guards stood behind her. A curt nod spurred them into action and they moved, two of them lifting Marcus’s body between them whilst the third lowered himself into the grave, ready to guide Marcus’s body down into its final resting place.

“It is time to say goodbye,” Clarke spoke up. She turned back to the crowd, “If you would all join me in honouring Marcus with the traveller’s blessing.”

There was at first an unintelligible rumble of voices as people began to speak and then the crowd found a rhythm and the words became syncronised and echoed into the dark day; 

“In peace may you leave this shore, in love may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground.” As they spoke the blessing, the guards lowered Marcus’s body into his grave.

“May we meet again,” Clarke concluded the blessing in the traditional way,

“May we meet again,” the gathered crowd repeated back.

Clarke turned and watched as the guards picked up shovels and immediately set about filling the grave. The rhythmic noise of dirt being shoveled, deposited, shoveled, deposited, rang in Clarke’s ears. Her brain pounded against the inside of her skull.

“Yu gonplei ste odon, Marcus kom Skaikru,” Clarke spoke lowly, wishing Marcus’s spirit peace in the language of the people that he had- in his faith for human kindness- found allies, friends, and the possibility of a bright future among.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monty stepped into the console room in the underbelly of Arkadia and found the space empty except for Raven.

“Hey!” He said, but Raven did not look up from the screen she was stood next to, her fingers working furiously at a keyboard. “Hey! Raven?” Monty shouted.

There was a beat and then Raven gave a jerk like she had just awoken from a bad dream or a trance. At last she turned from the console and looked at him blankly. “Monty,” she said and her voice was as devoid of inflection as her face was expression. “You’re late.”

Monty stepped further into the space and reached to switch on another workstation. “I know. I was-” he stopped and tried to remember exactly why he hadn’t managed to get to work until then. The reason seemed distant somehow, like he was trying to recall something from a week ago and not that morning. He’d woken up on time, that much he recalled. And then he had intended to go somewhere, to see someone perhaps. But instead he’d lost time and when he had awoken again, he had still been in his room and late for work.

Monty shook his head and reached into a pocket on his jacket, intending to retrieve the memory stick he had stored his previous days’ work on. Instead he pulled out one of Jaha’s chips. His brows furrowed. It was strange that he had the thing, he’d already taken one. He could almost swear that the chip was meant for something, for someone else. He tried to think, to remember. Before he could bring the answers within reach however, he startled at the appearance of ALIE at his side,

“Are you alright, Monty? I sensed some distress,” she asked in her low and calming voice.

The effort that Monty had put into trying to remember who the second chip was for melted away at the sight of the AI, at the sound of her. He absentmindedly placed the chip on the side, “No, I’m fine,” he said and already he felt much more clear headed, “Ready to get back to work!” As he spoke, he tried a different pocket and procured the memory stick he had been looking for. He plugged it into the console and watched as the bits and pieces of code he had pulled from Arkadia’s records and copied appeared on the screen, white writing on the black background, row upon row.

“Good. With you and Raven working together, I’m sure we will find any residual information regarding the fate of Polaris and my upgrade quickly,” ALIE said.

“And if we can’t, maybe we can code our own,” Raven chimed in and her voice was lighter than before, like the presence of the AI had lifted her spirits too.

“I’m sure we can achieve anything we want, Raven,” ALIE agreed and then the holographic projection was gone as the AI returned full power into the metal backpack that had been hooked into Arkadia’s computer systems by Raven.

The room fell into silence, the sound of the machinery whirring and the tapping of keys the only sounds in the air. Monty stared at the code on the screen, looking for anything that looked out of place, like it might be some residual information, a ghost code of the history the Ark had tried to erase. He felt himself almost falling into the screen, his eyes glazing over as he concentrated on the work before him. The world fell away without him noticing and were he able to look away from the console, Monty would’ve found himself in totally unfamiliar surroundings. Four white walls. A room devoid of furniture, of distraction, of anything except for him and his console. And the quiet whispers in his mind that, if he stopped and really listened to, would only tell him to get back on with his work for that was all that really mattered anymore.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abby sat on the metal chair by the desk and looked down at her daughter’s artwork. After the funeral had finished she had drifted about Arkadia, half hearing people give her their condolences as she’d walked by. She had moved aimlessly and had found herself in the room that Clarke had spent her week of house-arrest in. She felt numb and ready to crumble all at once. The shock at losing Marcus had knocked the breath from her and she didn’t know if she’d ever catch it again; if she’d ever really be able to register that he was gone. 

She cried because that was what you were supposed to do when you had lost someone you cared deeply for. Someone that you had- she wouldn’t let herself think it. But it was true nonetheless and she had realised far too late. She had jumped at the glimmer of hope shining before her as that glimmer was already fading out and she had been met instead with nothingness. Her heart was in turmoil but it was also empty. Her mind screamed but it was quiet too. She looked down at the drawing her daughter had sketched of the person she loves and Abby felt everything and nothing. 

The door slid open and Clarke padded into the room. Abby looked from the sketch to the artist and she tried to smile at her daughter, to show some sign that she was coping. Amongst the grief, the need, the pure instinct to be the strong one because she was the parent, propelled her from the chair and onto her feet. She moved forward and enveloped Clarke in a tight hug. Her daughter returned it, holding her tightly and Abby knew that her show of strength had failed. Clarke was holding her together, not the other way around. Abby sniffed at her failure and stepped away from Clarke’s hold.

They regarded each other in silence and Abby could tell that her daughter was measuring her expression, was taking a note of the contradiction in her teary but stony gaze.

“I have something for you,” Clarke finally spoke and her own voice was hoarse from the tears that had been shed that day.

Abby waited and said nothing. She watched as her daughter reached into her pocket and took out a piece of cloth, no, a piece of Marcus’s guard jacket. Clarke handed it over. Abby accepted the gift and the fabric unravelled in her palm to reveal a lock of Marcus’s hair.

“Something for you to keep,” Clarke explained, and then, “You know it’s traditional among the grounders to take a braid as a keepsake when a loved one passes. Marcus didn’t have any braids but-”

“Thank you, Clarke,” Abby spoke and her voice was barely even a whisper. She gathered her hand into a fist, holding tight to the gift her daughter had given her. The gift of memory. 

Abby turned away from Clarke and moved back to the desk. She sunk back into the chair and glanced at the drawing again. Still she clutched the fabric. “I waited too long to see what I had,” Abby admitted, referring back to the conversation they’d had in that very room only four days ago.

Clarke closed the distance between them and placed a warm hand on Abby’s shoulder. “I always wondered about you and Marcus.”

Abby sighed. She placed the lock of hair onto the desk and regarded it a while. Then her eyes shifted from the little piece of memory to the drawing pad. She reached out and traced the lines of her daughter’s work, another type of memory for a person not lost, but left behind for now. Abby could almost feel the love that had been poured into the sketch emanating off of the page. In the effort that had gone into bringing something far away a little bit closer. “Promise me something Clarke?” Abby asked and she moved her hand away from the drawing pad and placed it over the one her daughter kept on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Promise what?”

Abby turned her head and looked up at her daughter, her beautiful grown-up daughter. “Promise me that you won’t waste your own opportunity to be happy. To love and be loved. Promise me that you’ll be strong because life won’t let you wait for it to be convenient. Promise me that even when you have responsibilities that only want to tear you away from your happiness, you won’t let them. You will take every moment you can get and you will live every moment to the fullest. Don’t wait for a better day. Don’t bank on someday. Take everything you can get, dare to have it all at once or not at all. Promise me you’ll have the strength to do that, to fight for it?”

There was a moment as Abby’s request hung in the air, as if both of them were stunned into silence by the fervour of her words. Then, Clarke placed her free hand over the one Abby had over her other. Abby watched as her daughter’s eyes flickered down to the sketch and then back to meet her imploring stare.

“I promise,” she answered simply and it was enough to bring a weak smile to Abby’s lips.

Abby gazed at the lock of hair again, the deep brown against the black blue of the swatch of fabric. It suddenly reminded her of the time she had tried to offer her daughter a similar comfort by collecting and saving some of Finn’s ashes. Clarke had refused to take them at the time and now, thanks to Jasper, those had been lost too. Abby soured as the thought of Finn inevitably turned her mind to Raven. Her absence at the funeral had been duly noted by Abby. Whatever Jaha had the young mechanic working on, surely wasn’t more important to Raven than saying goodbye to friends. At least not the Raven that Abby knew and had come to regard as almost a surrogate daughter. But that Raven had been worryingly absent for a while now, ever since she took the chip. Abby understood Raven’s motivations, any chance at relieving such serious chronic pain would be too tempting to say no to. But the chips took away much more than that Abby was sure. 

“Raven wasn’t at the burial,” Abby spoke her concerns aloud. She hated to further burden her daughter but she knew Clarke would want to be kept informed of the effect Jaha’s work was having on Arkadia, on the people she was currently leading.

“I noticed.”

Abby tensed her jaw. “I’m worried about her. About everyone who has taken the chips, but Raven most of all,”

Clarke removed her hand from Abby’s shoulder and crossed her arms, “When she visited me during my arrest last week, the one time she did, she seemed-” Clarke paused a moment, “Muted?”

Abby nodded at the assessment, “She’s no longer in pain and for that I am thrilled. But that chip has taken away her fire. She’s working on something for Jaha, he won’t say what. But it’s like that’s the only thing that matters to her anymore, the only thing that holds any meaning.”

“We’ve all been in danger of losing ourselves down here,” Clarke said gravely, “But this is something even worse than that isn’t it?”

“I think so. You know, the reason why I tried to take the chips from Jaha, before he got someone to steal them back, was because he had totally forgotten Wells.”

“Forgotten Wells? His own son?” Clarke was incredulous, her voice cracking in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

Abby sighed. “You had enough to worry about! Focusing on getting to Pike and ending the blockade. And telling you about it whilst you were under house arrest would have only made you feel worse. I couldn’t do that to you.”

Clarke gave a sharp exhale and Abby caught the way her eyes rolled but she did not react back. She understood the pressures of being in charge all too well by now. Of feeling stretched in every direction at once, of feeling like there would never be an end to the problems facing the people you were trying to keep safe,

“It’s one thing after another, isn’t it?” Clarke scoffed, echoing her mother’s very thoughts. Clarke shifted her weight, obviously keen to go and start doing something, anything, with the information she had just been given.

“You should get to work,” Abby prompted. 

She watched her daughter tense her jaw, conflicted about leaving her no doubt,

“I’ll be fine, Clarke. I just need a little time,” Abby assured and then, “I’m sorry I’m not up to more-”

“No. Don’t apologise for needing to grieve, Mom,” Clarke cut her off. She moved forward again and stooped down, placing a kiss to Abby’s forehead. “I’ll ask Raven to come speak with me after the council meeting I’ve planned,” Clarke spoke as she righted herself again. “Maybe I can get through to her and start to unravel what exactly is going on with the chips.”

With that, her daughter turned on her heel and left the room. Abby stayed in the chair. She took the lock of hair in her fingers and felt its softness and imagined what might have been. A sob reverberated through the empty room.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia growled as paced the small space in the bedroom she and Lincoln shared in Arkadia. Too metal. Too confined. Too much like sixteen years of hell already endured.

“Octavia, come here,” Lincoln’s voice pierced through her frustration despite how softly he spoke.

She stopped pacing and turned to face him. He was stretched out on the bed, shoes kicked off. Relaxed and smirking at her as if he had not nearly been brutally executed just four days ago. Octavia huffed but she smiled back and approached the bed, plopping herself down onto the mattress. Lincoln rolled onto his side and surrounded her with his ever calming presence, propped up on his elbow and gazing up at her with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Nou get yu daun,” he said and then, “Indra will return from Polis soon and the blockade will be lifted.” It was a habit of theirs to switch fluidly between both of their native languages.

“And then we’ll be out of here at last,” Octavia finished and she relished the thought.

They had not yet decided where they would go. Into the woods for a while probably, just to enjoy being with one another away from everyone else. Then to Polis and back to their lives as a healer and a warrior’s second. Or maybe to the territory of the Boat Clan to start a new life completely. But for now, they sat and waited.

Lincoln did not reply. Instead he sat up and leaned in and placed a kiss on Octavia’s lips. Octavia relished the feeling, the closeness, the absolute proof that Lincoln was still alive and hers as she was his.

“Ai hod yu in,” Octavia whispered as they parted and she rested her forehead against his,

“Ai hod yu in seintaim,” came the reply without hesitation.

They stayed like that awhile, content. 

“Have you been to see your brother yet?” Lincoln broke the silence.

Octavia gave a whine of protest, “No. I’ve told you I’ve got nothing to say to him.”

“You should say your goodbyes at least, Octavia,” Lincoln argued, “And if you say them now rather than later, it will be easier when it’s time for us to go.”

Octavia had to admit that Lincoln was right. She wanted Bellamy out of her mind. But she also, in her lingering anger towards him, wanted Bellamy to know for certain that he was going to lose her in every sense of the word.

“Alright,” Octavia said, and she sprung back off the bed and made to leave for the cell room that she herself had been captive in before everything had been turned around.

“Don’t go too hard on him,” Lincoln asked, though Octavia could pick up the lack of conviction in his voice. Whether he agreed with the extent of her fury or not, Lincoln would never presume to tell her that she could not feel how she was feeling. 

“What?” Octavia snided, “Like he didn’t go too hard at trying to save innocent lives until Kane was already shot in the face?”

She stalked out of the room without waiting for Lincoln’s reply.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Murphy kept his eyes closed as he allowed Emori to finish her work. He felt as her hands worked the rabbit blood onto his cheeks, making sure that it looked convincing. 

“Ok, you’re set,” she said,

Murphy opened his eyes and gave a smile, “How do I look?”

“Like death warmed up, now go get in the road and do your job,” Emori responded.

Murphy scoffed but he complied, springing out from the brush at the side of the road. He moved quickly to the middle of the path and then dropped down onto the mossy dirt, making it look as though he had been badly beaten and abandoned by an unknown assailant.

They had covered a fair amount of ground on their way back to Arkadia in the past three and a half days but still there were four more to go before they got anywhere close to the settlement. So when they had encountered a lone rider on horseback during their walk, well it had been an opportunity too good to pass up. They had sprinted through the dense woods, hoping to cut off the rider by the time he had followed the meandering road. Murphy stayed perfectly still, the trap set and sure enough after some minutes, the sound of hooves on the ground began to draw close.

It was a risk every time he and Emori used the trick. Maybe their quarry would not stop, or worse Murphy could be trampled out of fear or malice. But this time, luck seemed to be on their side as the sound of the horses’ hooves slowed and then stopped,

“Hei?” The rider’s voice rang out and then there were footsteps.

Murphy held his breath, making sure that not even the slightest movement would give the game away. The man got closer still,

“Hei hef? Yu os?” 

Murphy waited just a moment longer for his signal and sure enough, Emori’s voice suddenly pierced through the air in a loud cry. Murphy’s eyes flew open in time to watch the rider wheel about in confusion and that’s when Murphy made his move. He sprang onto his feet and pushed into the unsuspecting rider with all his might, sending the man sprawling onto the road. The man gave a howl as his knees took the brunt of his weight.

By now, Emori had saddled up on the abandoned horse and she kicked her heels into the beast’s sides to spur it forwards. She slowed the horse and waited for Murphy to clamber on behind her and he got himself comfortable and wrapped his arms around her middle for balance. 

With another kick of her heels they were away, the rider abandoned in the road, still trying to pick himself back up. Murphy didn’t bother to look back at their victim and instead he leaned closer against Emori’s back, the fabric of her jacket rough against his bare chest.

“Hey, you did remember to pick my clothes up right?” He asked.

Emori turned to look at his over her shoulder and she smirked. “Maybe,” was all the reply she gave. 

They galloped through the forest with bright smiles on their faces, encouraged by the idea of being only two days away from Arkadia and from Otan now rather than four.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miller offered her a nod as Octavia entered the cell room. She returned it and took a great deal of satisfaction in seeing her friend, previously imprisoned with her, now tasked with guarding the new prisoners. He was stood stock still in front of the large cell, watching over it’s inhabitants.

Octavia stared through the bars in disgust. There were around ten people locked away in the space, Pike’s most loyal supporters, those who had refused to accept Clarke’s leadership and had instead chosen imprisonment. Monty’s mother was one of them. Shawn was in there too, his face as self-righteous as ever. Octavia sneered back when he met her eyes.

Octavia glanced away and at Miller again; “Bet you’re glad Bryan has a bit more sense than that lot right?”

Miller gave a smirk at Octavia’s open insult, “Damn right,” he answered.

There was a snigger from the other guard in the room and Octavia turned. It was Harper, “Don’t,” she said, “You don’t have to bunk in the room next door to them.”

Octavia gave a laugh. “Hey Harper, how are you doing?”

The mood dropped considerably as Harper offered a sad sort of smile, “Alright,” she replied with an unconvincing nod. “Better now Clarke’s trying to sort everyone’s mess out. Makes you feel like you might actually have the time to process you know?”

Octavia gave her own nod of understanding, “I’m sorry about Zoe,” she said and she would have said more if it wasn’t for the growl that emanated from the smaller cell in the room that Harper was stood in front of.

“You’re sorry for getting her killed you mean?” Bellamy’s voice came from the single cell he was locked in. It was for his protection, or maybe to protect the other prisoners from him. Octavia had not really paid any attention to Clarke’s exact words when their acting Chancellor had informed her that her brother had been locked away. The fact that he had been was satisfaction enough.

“Octavia didn’t kill Zoe, she was trying to warn innocent people about an incoming attack,” Harper spoke up and though Octavia certainly didn’t need anyone to speak for her, it was a comfort to hear that Harper knew that. “Zoe died because she was on the wrong side and she paid for that mistake. And she was on the wrong side because she trusted you!”

Octavia raised a hand, “It’s ok Harper, I’ll take it from here,” she said and she closed the remaining distance between herself and the bars to Bellamy’s cell and crouched down.

Her brother was huddled in the very corner of the cell, his back against the wall and his arms looped around his knees. He looked quite pathetic.

“Well I’m disappointed, Bell. I thought I was going to get some tears at least,” Octavia spat.

Bellamy glanced at her over his knees but said nothing.

“You really have nothing to say? Well this is a first-”

“What do you want Octavia?” Bellamy asked now, his voice low and angry.

Octavia fixed her eyes on his. “I’ve come to say goodbye,” she said. “As soon as the blockade is lifted, Lincoln and I are out of here.”

“Fine,” Bellamy responded petulantly.

Octavia rolled her eyes, “I hope you know that just because you didn’t let Pike kill Lincoln doesn’t mean I’ll ever forgive you. It was too little too late the moment you let him execute the first prisoner. Let alone the next four,” Octavia’s voice grew louder as she spoke, “Let alone Kane!”

“Stop!” Bellamy finally shouted back, the reaction Octavia had, perhaps pettily, been waiting to see. Bellamy picked himself off the floor at last and stalked right over to the bars. Octavia stood up too and they stared each other down. “I tried to save Kane but I wasn’t quick enough!” Bellamy argued, “I didn’t think he was going to shoot yet, I-”

“Didn’t you hear the part where I said it was already too late after the first prisoner?” Octavia spat back.

Tears began to fall down Bellamy’s cheeks. He gripped at the bars and rested his forehead against them. “Will you ever come back?” He whispered.

Octavia tensed her jaw. “Maybe, if I’m needed,” she admitted and then, “But never for you.”

Octavia stepped away from the cell then, satisfied she had been heard. She turned away from the cell and made to leave,

“Octavia!” Bellamy called out after her, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Octavia stopped walking and she looked back at him, “You always will be.” With that, she walked away from the crying man who was once her big brother.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke lifted her head from the map strewn on the table as she heard the door to the Chancellor’s office- her office- open. It was Octavia who walked into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” Octavia spoke.

“You’re right on time,” Clarke responded and she gestured that Octavia should join the group around the table.

Sinclair was there too. So was David Miller, who in the absence of anyone with more experience, had come out of retirement and once again taken up the mantle as Chief Guardsman. They, along with Octavia were the first members of Clarke’s council. Her Mother was also a member, though Clarke would wait as long as necessary for her Mother to feel ready to reassume her duties.

It was a small group indeed and would be smaller once Octavia had left Arkadia. Too many people had been lost, too many people had fallen to Jaha’s influence and, especially with what she and Abby had discussed earlier, could not be trusted to play any part in shaping Arkadia’s future. Still, Clarke was bolstered to see the four of them gathered around the planning table. After three days of reshuffling and trying to even secure her position as Arkadia’s temporary leader, Clarke felt good to be finally be able to look forward.

“Now that everything has settled down inside Arkadia’s walls,” Clarke began the meeting without further ado, “it’s time to start looking to our place outside of these walls.”

Her new council members nodded their agreement.

“When Indra returns with the order to disband the blockade, we need to be ready to prove that Arkadia, that Skaikru are ready and willing to accept their place as the thirteenth clan in the Coalition. We- I- will retake the brand that Pike rejected and we will take our place among the wider society on the ground.” Clarke paused for a moment. She knew that many of her people would still be apprehensive, if not downright hostile, to the idea of swearing allegiance to the grounders’ political system once again. She needed to make sure that everyone understood that it was in their best interest to. “We are the invaders in this narrative,” Clarke stated clearly, pointing a finger for emphasis, “The land we currently live on was not ours to take and yet it has been granted to us so that we may make a life down here. But in order to do that we need to make ourselves useful. We need to prove ourselves to be worthy allies. We are a small, small, group of people. We don’t know the ground as well as the other clans do. We don’t have the cultural history shared by those who have lived and died on the ground since the bombs fell. The other clans look at us and they only see more mouths to feed. More people using resources that were scarce already. And Pike’s actions have only worsened their distaste for our being here tenfold.”

Clarke watched as the faces around the table soured at the very mention of Pike’s name. They all knew that they were still very much on a knife’s edge. If Clarke pushed too far too quickly, she would only be removed from power and replaced by one of Pike’s people again. The sight of Bellamy carrying Kane’s lifeless body through the gates had given everyone pause, had tipped the scales in Clarke’s favour for the time being. But scales could tip back again if she didn't play her cards exactly right. It was a tremendous weight to carry and now Clarke was beginning to fully understand the magnitude of what she had been asking Lexa to do when she’d begged her to change the entire traditions of her people rather than lay waste to Arkadia.

“So how do we make ourselves welcome here after making such a terrible first impression?” Sinclair asked, shaking Clarke from her thoughts.

When Clarke met Octavia’s eyes, her friend was smirking at her like she’d known exactly where Clarke’s thoughts had drifted. Clarke frowned back and she hoped that it was just Octavia’s excellent intuition and not outright transparency on her own part. 

“Well,” Clarke spoke again. She cleared her throat, “We need to focus on what we can offer to the Coalition. Our technology itself might scare them, but if we can use it to do good for everyone then we will all benefit.”

“The soil sampling?” Octavia suggested immediately and Clarke regarded the young warrior proudly.

“Exactly. Pike wanted to take farmland by force. But if we offered to collect samples from each clan’s territory and provide guidance on where the most arable soil is then I’m sure the clans would act on that information. Their villages could be relocated to free the best soil and then everyone would benefit from the increased harvests.”

David Miller shook his head at that. “We could already have had half the samples taken by now if we’d have accepted our place in the Coalition to begin with,” he stated. It was obvious, but even so hearing it said aloud was powerful.

Until the word returned from Polis that the blockade could be lifted, Arkadia was still surviving on rations of what they had managed to grow and gather before the mess had started. It was yet another thing counting against Clarke’s leadership if she could not promise a quick end to the food shortage and the slow starvation of her people.

“We would have been halfway to being a viable society already if not for Pike. Everything that he thought we had to fight for was and will be offered to us under the terms of the Coalition. Trade. Knowledge. Land. All that we need to do is make sure we are ready to give something back in kind.” 

Clarke was about to say more, perhaps bring up her plans to reopen the medical facilities of Arkadia to grounders, not only sick ones, but their healers so that they may share techniques. But she was interrupted by an insistent knock on the door. She could guess who it was and Clarke swallowed.

“Meeting adjourned for now,” she said, “We’ll discuss this further at the meeting tomorrow. In the meantime, keep your thinking caps on,”

Her council members nodded and moved to take their leave. Once they had all left, the person who had interrupted the meeting stepped into the office. Clarke regarded Raven and was horrified at the sight of her dear friend. Raven looked clammy and pale, like she hadn’t seen sunlight in far too long. She was drawn in the face, like she hadn’t even been eating her rations. And yet when Raven walked further into the room, in was confidently and without any trace of pain or discomfort in her face. The sight was awfully disconcerting.

“You sent for me?” Raven spoke and her voice, though recognisable, was somehow hollow. It didn’t have it’s usual fire behind it.

“Yes,” Clarke replied, “I’ve heard you’ve been burying yourself in your work recently and just wanted to check in.” Clarke did not really know how best to approach Raven. She liked to think she knew the mechanic pretty well by now and normally, she’d expect a few raised eyebrows and a snide comment in return for her concern. Raven’s face remained totally passive.

“The work is important,” was all she offered back.

Clarke creased her brow, “This is work you are doing for Jaha, right? What is it?”

The response Raven had to that prompt was odd. Raven didn’t respond at first. Instead she turned her head to the side and nodded. If Clarke didn’t think it was entirely too crazy, she would have guessed that Raven was having another conversation with someone invisible. Raven turned back to Clarke.

“Jaha can be trusted,” she said.

“That’s not what I asked,” Clarke shot back.

The atmosphere grew tense. Clarke needed to get to the bottom of what Jaha’s chips were doing to her people, to what their real purpose was. If she had to use her friend to do that then she would.

“What are you working on for Jaha?” Clarke asked again, insistent.

Raven stared, empty eyed, “A better future for us.”

Clarke actually sniggered. “Then surely both of you should have been at the council meeting lending support. Believe it or, that’s what I want for us too,”

“No,” Raven said back and if her voice was hollow before, now it was as if it didn’t belong to her at all, “You expect your people to keep suffering in the hopes of building a better world. I want my people to have that better world now.”

“Who’s Finn?” Clarke asked the question she had been waiting to immediately after Raven had finished talking. She was hoping that the sudden mention of his name would finally elicit some emotional response from her friend. When it did not, Clarke felt her blood run cold.

“I don’t know who Finn is,” Raven replied mechanically, “Why did you interrupt me to ask about someone I don’t know?”

When Abby had told Clarke that Jaha had forgotten his own son, Clarke had not been able to really believe it. But now here she was asking Raven about the boy they had both loved and Raven had no idea who he was.

“The chips stop you from feeling pain? Correct?” Clarke snapped out the questions.

Raven nodded.

Clarke moved closer to her friend until they were inches apart. She stared into Raven’s eyes and they stared back at her like the eyes of a corpse.

“I don’t know what or who you are in there,” Clarke whispered, “But I’m not going to let you take anymore of my friends away from me. What you are doing is not erasing pain, it’s erasing them.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me, Clarke?” Raven asked and Clarke stepped back in shock as Raven’s voice was suddenly almost back to normal.

“I do know who you are Raven,” Clarke answered, “The question is do you?”

Clarke watched as tears formed in Raven’s eyes. If she could feel pain, Clarke was sure Raven’s features would of contorted with it. Instead her friend stood still and wept and shook her head, “Who am I?” She croaked out and then she turned on her heel and fled the office before Clarke could even try to explain or to help.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Who am I?” Raven screamed the question again, her voice bouncing off the metal walls as she stormed forward.

“You are Raven Reyes. Mechanic. Born April 11th 2130 on Mecha Station of the Ark. Mother’s name-”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Raven screamed at ALIE. The AI was in front of her, seeming to float backwards as Raven walked, totally inescapable, “Get out of my head!”

“I’m not in your head, Raven,” ALIE said matter-of-factly.

Raven nearly growled, “No but you were back in the Chancellor’s office! You are when I’m working, making sure I don’t stop to think about anything else,” Raven stopped walking and she let out a sob, “And now I can’t even remember anything else!”

ALIE stopped too and she regarded Raven with a cocked head and a passive expression. “Do you mean to say that you would like to feel the pain you were in again?”

Raven gritted her teeth and peered up at the AI, “Is that a threat?”

“Not at all. Merely a reminder of why you took the chip in the first place. Of why you were previously so keen to help me,” ALIE rationalised,

“Help you do what exactly? Become more powerful so that you can take away more people’s memories?” Raven spat out through the tears that would not stop coming. Another sob wracked through her.

“So that I can make life better for humans by offering more of them an alternative to the life of pain that they currently endure. A life that you once endured and seem now intent on returning to,”

As ALIE said those words her form, so brilliantly real and three dimensional in appearance, flickered away and back again. When the image of her returned her face, usually calming and passive, was twisted into something entirely more sinister. She stared at Raven and as her artificial eyes burned through Raven’s skin, so Raven’s leg began to throb. The pain swelled and swelled until it surpassed even the worst pain Raven had ever been in before she had taken the chip. Raven let out a scream and fell to the floor, unable to keep her weight on her broken body. She writhed about on the cool metal in agony,

“Stop it!” She wailed, “Make it stop, please.”

The pain stopped instantly and when Raven peered up, she saw that the dark and dangerous look had disappeared from ALIE’s face.

“When I have my upgrade, people will no longer suffer from the unfortunate side effect of losing memories along with their pain,” ALIE said softly, “So unless you want more of your friends to feel as lost as you do Raven, you better get back to work.”

Raven picked herself up off the floor and wiped a hand over her eyes. “And what about the people who’ve already taken chips?”

ALIE smiled. “When they leave the real world for the last time, they won’t worry about what has been sacrificed to reach utopia. They won’t even remember.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that you damn piece of crap machine,” she chided and then she stormed forward again.

ALIE did not follow this time, instead the AI disappeared. The thing knew it had won for now. Raven would go and continue to work because she had little choice. Now that she knew the AI could turn her pain receptors back on at whim, she was trapped until her connection to the AI was severed completely. If only Raven could remember the stubborn girl she thought she might once have been, if only she could recall her strength of spirit. Maybe she could. As Raven moved back towards the console room, two words kept repeating in her mind, a question she almost knew was the key to breaking free; Who’s Finn? Who’s Finn? Who’s Finn?

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke marched into the hangar, making every step she took echo as her boots hit the metal floor.

“Jaha!” She shouted as her quarry came into her sight. He was in his usual spot in the corner of the large room, on his knees with his eyes closed.

There was a moment and then Jaha’s eyes darted open,

“Clarke? Is there something I can do for you?” Jaha asked evenly and Clarke wanted to scream at him. Her nostrils flared as she swallowed the urge down and she locked her eyes on the kneeling man.

“Yes. You can tell me what the hell your chips are doing to my friends!” 

Jaha stood up. “I’m just trying to help my people Clarke. By taking their pain away. By offering them something better. Surely you can understand the desire to do that?”

Clarke tensed her jaw. “That isn’t an answer, Thelonious.”

The hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck prickled when Jaha responded by repeating the same action she had seen Raven make earlier. He turned his head to the side and began to nod at thin air,

“There! Look at you! Who are you talking to?” Clarke cried out, desperate for answers.

Jaha gave a sigh and turned back to Clarke. “You wouldn't understand,” he replied.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven worked furiously at the console, typing line after line of code. She could not stop, she could not find it in herself to tell her brain to stop. Still the question repeated in her mind; Who’s Finn? 

“Who’s Finn?” She whispered to herself desperately. Her eyes began to blur, the speed at which her work was appearing on the screen before her too fast to take in. But she wasn’t the one typing, not really.

She could feel ALIEs talons tearing through her mind, trying to regain absolute control of Raven’s mind as the AI had control of her body.

“Finn,” Raven said, “Finn, Finn, Finn, Finn…” she repeated the name like it was a prayer. Her last prayer.

The mantra rang in her ears and she felt for the briefest moment a slip on ALIEs control, the claws in her mind loosening their grip as if they’d come into contact with something unpleasant. She used the split second of increased freedom to tear her eyes away from the console screen and she found herself looking down at the necklace that hung about her neck. An origami raven. She was Raven. And Raven had loved and lost a boy named Finn.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, what are you doing in here?” Miller asked as the door to the cell room opened to reveal Peterson.

The former guard may have sworn to have changed his ways following Kane’s death and Pike’s violent removal from power but Miller did not trust that at all. Of course, the threat of imprisonment loomed over any of Pike’s old supporters that proved themselves still loyal to his agenda, but that had not deterred many of Pike’s most loyal followers from remaining staunch in their support. Those people were locked up in the cell that Miller guarded. He would have bet his rations on Peterson being one of the people in the cell and yet, he was the man standing free before him.

“Visiting friends,” Peterson said.

Miller sighed and shrugged, “Fine, but I’m watching you.”

Peterson gave a sickening smile and moved closer to the large cell. Miller kept watch out of the corner of his eyes.

“Hannah, I have something for you,” Peterson spoke.

Miller turned and faced the cell and watched as Hannah picked herself up off the floor and approached the bars. Miller could not help but wrinkle his nose in disgust at the thought that such a horrible woman was Monty’s mother.

Peterson reached into his pocket and pulled a small white shape out.

“What is that?” Miller asked.

Peterson turned to him, “It’s a gift for Hannah from Monty.”

Peterson reached through the bars and placed the thing into Hannah’s waiting palm. Miller made no move to stop him, he did not want to get in the way of his friend trying to reconnect with his family. Miller knew how it felt to be on opposite sides from those you cared about it and would not try to stop anyone from rebuilding bridges, no matter if he could never forgive Hannah and the other prisoners himself.

“Monty says he is sorry he has not been to visit you. He is very busy. He is doing very important work.”

Miller raised his brow at that. He was cautious suddenly. There was something off about Peterson’s voice. Something strangely mechanical in the way he spoke.

“Monty says that this will help. Trust him. Trust me.” Peterson made a gesture that Hannah should swallow the chip.

“Wait!” Miller shouted, certain that something untoward had just slipped by him but he was too late.

Hannah swallowed the chip and Miller held his breath. But nothing happened. He waited, staring from Hannah, to Peterson and back again. Still nothing,

“What was that thing?” Miller finally asked Peterson, cutting into the silence that had descended.

“It was the straw that broke the donkey’s back,” Peterson replied and if his voice had been strange before, now it was downright chilling.

Before Miller could react, Peterson fell to the floor in a heap. A thud came from inside the cell and when he turned, Hannah had collapsed as well. The other prisoners sprang up and towards Hannah at the same time that Miller did the same to Peterson. He shook the man vigorously and got no response. Panicked, Miller checked for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he found one, still strong. But still, Peterson and Hannah remained unresponsive.

“Help!” Miller cried out, “Medic!”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ALIE smiled as she felt a new signal burst into being. She could feel the scales tip, the power that she needed to fulfill her primary function finally granted to her as the chip she had taken as Peterson from the side in the console room- carelessly left there forgotten by Monty- had been taken.

She’d gained enough power to control the humans one or two at a time already but now, with that final push she knew she was ready to lead the whole of Arkadia to its salvation. And it had come not a moment too soon. Even as she appeared in the hangar, ALIE could feel her grip on Raven’s mind weakening, the signals from the filaments lodged into the mechanics brainstem losing their signal among the noise of Raven fighting to remember a different sort of connection that no technology, no matter how advanced, could duplicate or process. ALIE needed the power to act quickly before her weakness was discovered. 

ALIE turned her attention back to Thelonious, her dearest believer was still trying to dodge Clarke Griffin’s questions.

“Don’t worry Thelonius she’s too late,” ALIE said. Jaha stopped talking to Clarke mid-sentence and turned to her- to empty air in Clarke’s eyes- with an expectant look upon his face. “Peterson took the chip to Hannah Green and she took it.”

“You actually made him do that?” Jaha asked her, no longer caring how he must look in his desperation for answers. ALIE could feel his desperation.

“Yes. And now I can do so much more.” ALIE smiled widely.

“Thelonious who the hell are you talking to? What the hell are you being told to do by that damn chip you swallowed? Answer me!” Clarke’s voice rang through the hangar. It was a harsh grating sound even to ALIEs artificial ears. ALIE turned and regarded the woman, the new Chancellor of Arkadia, with disgust.

“Tell her Thelonious,” ALIE prompted and she smiled at the way the man spread his arms out and opened his palms as he delivered his line;

“I’m leading my people on their final journey to the City of Light.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finn had been the boy she loved, Raven remembered now. She closed her eyes, blocked the console from her view and conjured up an image of his face. How could she have forgotten? It came so clearly to her mind now, his cheeky grin, his light brown eyes, his soft hair. Raven smiled at the images in her mind, the joy of remembering a loved one bringing her peace like she hadn’t felt in a long time. She hadn’t felt anything at all in far too long. As she thought that the images of his face began to fade against her will.

“No!” Raven cried out, “No, come back!”

She fought but still the memories receded and were once again replaced by blackness and nothingness and then all of a sudden, everything went white. Raven did not feel herself hit the floor of the console room, instead she found herself jerking awake on a plush sofa in an unfamiliar space. ALIE was standing before her and Raven sat up on the couch and regarded the woman.

“A bad dream,” ALIE spoke and her voice soothed Raven and brought her mind more clearly into her surroundings. Into the present.

“A bad dream,” Raven agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I detest having to make Raven suffer even for a few seconds. I hate that her involvement in the City of Light story line backed me into a writing corner, so to speak. But I promise you that Raven is going to play a huge role in the culmination of the City of Light plot and I have something nice and hopeful planned for her future beyond this fic. And no more suffering after that at all ever. 
> 
> I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who has left kudos or a comment so far, I read every single one with a huge grin on my face and just hope that I've managed to give you the characters that we love so much back a little :)


	5. Bloody Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A still recovering Commander Lexa must return to her daily duties in Polis before the Ambassador's start to ask questions. She begins to make preparations to welcome Skaikru back into the Coalition and must urge her people to focus on what the thirteenth clan can do to help build their future. Titus expresses a change of heart, whilst the young Nightblood Aden seeks out Lexa's advice. Meanwhile, a lone visitor to Polis brings trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning that this chapter gets rather violent in places, though certainly not to the same gratuitous levels as the awful AU that gets aired on the tellybox of a Thursday (make. it. stop.).
> 
> If you think whilst reading that I might be throwing lowkey shade at the show, I AM. I absolutely am.

Chapter 5: Bloody Lullaby

The guards swung the doors open as she approached with her entourage and Lexa sauntered into the round space of the throne room. Her hips sashayed and each long stride over the red carpet was measured and deliberate. Lexa’s face was passive, showing no indication of how she felt to be returning to her daily duties after an alarmingly long absence. Although she maintained her stoic facade with apparent effortlessness, the reality was the opposite.

Lexa grit her teeth, her jaw locked tight under the serene exterior of her features. Every step was pure agony. A searing pain shot through her body, blossoming outwards from the healing gunshot wound, each time her boots met the floor. Her armour felt perilously close to making her topple under its weight. It was designed to be cumbersome. It- along with the tight lattice belt around her middle- forced her back rigid, her posture to be absolutely perfect. It allowed no margin for sloppy appearance. The weight of the pauldron itself symbolised the weight of responsibility Lexa carried on her shoulders as the leader of her people. It was a constant downward force on her body. Now that weight felt brutal, like it was too much to bear. Lexa’s knees felt weak and her spine ached like it was about to shatter.

When Lexa reached the plinth on which her throne was situated she almost let out a sigh of relief. She caught herself and straightened up. Lexa took in the orange glow of the sunset behind the veiled windows. Then, she turned to face her Ambassadors and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Kneel before your Commander!” Titus’s voice pierced through the room.

One by one, the Ambassadors dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. Even the new Azgeda Ambassador, appointed and sent to Polis following King Roan’s coronation, made the gesture of respect with no outward sign of hesitation. Lexa allowed herself the ghost of a satisfied smirk.

“Hail Ambassadors of the Twelve Clans,” Lexa addressed her coalition,

“Hail Commander of the Blood,” came the reply in unison.The Ambassadors stood back up.

Lexa regarded them a moment, her eyes scanning their faces, searching for any clues to the mood each Ambassador was in. They only looked back with respect. Lexa inched back and sat upon her throne in one fluid motion. It looked as graceful as ever but the motion sent another shock of agony through her muscles and bones. Lexa exhaled sharply, an involuntary reaction to the pain she was in. When she saw Titus’s head turn quickly in her direction in her peripheral vision, she knew the Flamekeeper had caught onto the small tell.

Lexa brushed off his concern and kept her eyes forward. She cocked her head and then brought it back down in a terse nod, giving her permission for her Ambassadors to take their own seats. She did not let her eyes wander to the thirteenth chair, the closest on her right, that remained unoccupied.

“Ambassadors of the Coalition, we are gathered here in council today to discuss the Kongeda’s future as it moves to re-welcome Skaikru to its table.” Lexa started, “Tomorrow morning, General Indra kom Trikru will ride to Arkadia and disband the blockade of the settlement, following the death of Chancellor Pike and the re-establishment of our allies as the rightful leaders of Skaikru.” Lexa motioned her hand towards Indra, stood diligently to Lexa’s left side as usual, as she spoke.

Lexa scanned the room, watching for any sign of dissent or unhappiness with the order of business. There would be no mention of her absence, no explanations given. If any of her Ambassador’s wanted to know why she had been unable to attend to her duties for so many days they would have to stay content to keep whispering and wondering. Although it always harmed her public appearance to remind people, Lexa was a human being after all. Maybe they would think she had been ill; a cold or fever had taken hold over her. As long as nobody learned the truth, they could focus instead on moving forward with the Skaikru re-joining the coalition and maybe the empty thirteenth chair would be filled once again sooner rather than later.

“I understand that you all must have reservations about allowing Skaikru back into our Capital, let alone into our alliance. But know that they paid a high price for being misguided by a tyrant. I have learned that along with our own people, our friend Marcus kom Skaikru was also executed by Pike in the act of violence that brought about the false Chancellor’s demise. It is a tragic loss.” Lexa paused and worked her jaw. She had been deeply saddened by the news of Marcus’s passing. He had been someone she was sure she could have considered a good friend and confidant had they been given the gift of more time together. But she also knew that his death was almost a symbolic one. The man who took the coalition's brand executed in cold blood. His death proving to be the catalyst for Skaikru turning against Pike and proving themselves to be bigger believers in peace and respect- the things Marcus stood for- after all.

“In times of fear and desperation, people can make terrible choices and it is only by seeing the dire consequences of their decisions that they can find the strength to look for a better way. With the Skaikru taking that leap, now that they are ready to follow the leadership of people who look to peace before violence, so too must the Coalition continue to do that. A better way starts now.” Lexa stopped speaking when she saw the Broadleaf Ambassador raise his hand. Her jaw flexed again in annoyance. He had been the second to vote against her in Nia’s attempted coup and Lexa could still recall the vehement tone of his voice as he had spoken out for her removal as Commander. Still, she gave a slow nod and waited for him to speak.

“Commander if I may, it is all well and good speaking of the Skaikru being willing to swear allegiance to the coalition once again. But the fact remains that they are a small group of invaders that have done much more harm to us all than good. What exactly do we gain from allowing those people to share our land and eat at our table?”

There were murmurs of agreement from many of the other Ambassadors. Lexa regarded the Broadleaf representative evenly and actually allowed herself to turn her lips up slightly at the man, “I am glad you’ve asked that question.” Lexa turned her attention to the guards stood by the door and she raised a hand to gesture to them, “Bring forward our guests,” she spoke out.

The guards nodded simultaneously and then opened the doors to reveal a small crowd of people; the survivors from Semmet’s village. They had been held in Polis since Semmet’s failed assassination attempt and subsequent death, but now Lexa wanted to send them home. But first she wanted to use their knowledge of life in a small village to bring some perspective to the council’s discussions.

She waited until the villagers had been ushered into the room and was pleased to see that they all looked healthy, clean and well fed. When an older woman took her position at the front of the group, Lexa assumed that they had already elected a new village leader between them and so Lexa fixed her eyes upon the woman,

“Your name?” Lexa asked,

“I am Reina kom Trikru, Heda,” the greying woman replied immediately.

“Reina kom Trikru. I welcome you and your people back into my hall. Whilst the nature of your stay in the capital was not ideal, I hope at least it has been made comfortable for you?”

“It has Heda. Very much so,” Reina said.

Lexa gave a satisfied nod. She let her hands find the rests on her throne and she tapped at the wood with her fingers, “Reina, I have invited you to the meeting of the Coalition today because I wish to send you home. I will also send an entourage of warriors and with them, you will move your village onto healthy land now that the current site is no longer livable. ” Lexa had heard how the villagers had chosen to use poison sap to poison the land that Pike’s people coveted rather than simply give it up. It was a testament to her people’s resourcefulness as much as it was to their stubbornness.

There were audible sighs of relief and many smiles broke out in the group at that news. Lexa gave them a moment before she spoke again.

“But before I do I need assurances that none of you will attempt to seek further revenge against the Skaikru now they are once again loyal to my Coalition,” Lexa delivered the request sternly.

The smiles in the group disappeared and Reina herself scrunched her face in defiance. Lexa raised her chin.

“Heda, they tried to attack us totally unprovoked in the dead of night. Were it not for the Skai girl coming to warn us, we would have been slaughtered in our sleep. Just like our brothers and sisters in the army that you sent to protect them.”

“But a Skai girl did warn you because not every member of Skaikru agreed with their Chancellor. And now that Chancellor is dead, herded over the blockade line and to justice by his own people, including his second in command.”

There was a silence and Lexa watched Reina closely. The woman’s face fell back into a passive glare; “As you say, Heda,” she spoke. It wasn’t good enough.

“Why did Pike get his people to attack your village?” Lexa asked. It was time to put the villagers on the spot and make them think about their futures.

“They wanted the land for themselves,” Reina answered,

“But why your village in particular? There were plenty of other directions they could have chosen to claim land in,” Lexa prompted further,

Reina remained silent.

“The soil!” Came the bright voice of a child from behind the adults. Lexa craned her neck and tried to place the voice,

“Let the child forward,” she spoke and after some shuffling, a skinny boy was brought to the front of the group. He looked up at his Commander sheepishly and Lexa tried to keep her features soft to reassure him.

“They wanted the soil you say-?” Lexa asked, her voice rising in pitch at the end to suggest she would like to learn his name,

“Yes, Gavriel, Heda, if you please,” he stuttered out. Lexa gave Gavriel a nod that he should continue. “I saw them collecting the ground in small glasses by the river. They chased me with guns when they saw me but Octavia kom Skaikru saved me-”

Lexa raised a hand and silenced the boy once she had heard what she had needed to.

“They were collecting the soil to test it. Obviously the results were satisfactory and so they attacked. Tell me, Reina, had the Skai people come peacefully to your village and informed you that the soil on which your village was situated was highly fertile, what would you have done?” Lexa raised an eyebrow as she asked the question.

Reina shuffled her feet and glanced down to the ground before responding, “We would have moved the village and turned the site into farmland to increase the harvest,” she admitted.

Lexa turned her attention back to her Ambassadors, “We may fear the Skaikru’s technology but that does not change the fact that it can help us, that it is not all inherently evil. With the Skaikru in the coalition it will be their duty as it is ours to support the alliance as well as they can and to seek to improve life in all thirteen clans. Mutual support for the greater benefit of all has always been one of the tenants of this Alliance. I ask you to imagine what we can achieve by working alongside the Skaikru. Their soil testing will increase our harvests. Their medical knowledge will save more lives. If we want them to prove themselves worthy allies, if we want them to pull their weight in the coalition then we must first be willing to accept them into it. As we have learned to accept the help of one another since the Kongeda was formed.”

Lexa saw another opportunity to drive her message home and so she took it. She turned to the villagers again, “Have your lives improved since the clans were united, Reina?” She asked. Said aloud it sounded like such a simple question.

“Of course, Heda. Without the warring between the clans the village has finally been able to flourish. Warriors are also farmers and blacksmiths. When they are home, the village is bolstered.”

“And since the fall of the mountain?” Lexa prompted further. It was a risk to bring up Mount Weather, given how loaded the subject was, how close it’s demise had come to causing Lexa’s own removal from power.

Reina must have also been surprised by the question because she faltered before speaking again, “We no longer spend every day looking over our shoulder, fearing the reaping, Heda. Those who go out into the woods to gather supplies come home safely, providing they do not fall prey to animal attacks. Mother’s and fathers no longer need worry that their child might be taken next.” There was obvious emotion in Reina’s voice. Perhaps she herself had lost a loved one to the reaping, most people who made their home in the territories around the mountain had.

“Well now the woman responsible for ending that threat is acting as leader of the Skaikru and they wish to swear allegiance to the Kongeda once again,” Lexa stated, “I judged Wanheda to be a worthy ally when first I met her and now she has once again proven that judgement correct. I ask you to pay her and her people that same respect. Skaikru will be a worthy addition to our Coalition.”

Lexa hated the way she had to twist Clarke's defeat of the mountain so that it would not once again threaten to weaken her own position. Of course Clarke’s worthiness as an ally was never in question. Those doubts should be rightfully directed towards Lexa herself and they had been. It had been a long slow process trying to win Clarke's trust back as a political peer, let alone as a friend or as a- Lexa did not let her train of thought continue further and she refocused her attention. That time however, she could not stop her eyes from darting quickly, imperceptibly, over to Clarke’s empty seat before returning to Reina.

The leader gave a nod, “I agree to your terms Heda. We will return home and I will see to it that not one of my people attempts to bring harm to the Skaikru. We look forward now, not back.”

“Well said,” Lexa praised and she did indeed feel a great swell of pride at Reina’s words. We look forward. “It must seem very impersonal to you, your leaders gathered like this at the top of a tower in a city you perhaps would never have visited under different circumstances. But I would like you to leave Polis knowing that as your Commander I make it my top priority every day to make your lives as peaceful and fulfilling as possible. I want you all to flourish, to live long happy lives without fear. That is why I feel it is my duty to always search for alternatives to sending your brothers and sisters, your children, and parents, to a war that may be avoidable if just a little more thought and deliberation is given. And I am sure that each Ambassador in this room and each clan leader that they are here to represent feels the same way.” Lexa paused and let the words hang in the air, an open challenge for any of the Ambassador’s to suggest they were there in the throne room for any other reason than to be a voice for their people. The room was silent. Lexa looked to Reina, “I will make the arrangements for your departure from the capital as soon as the blockade has been lifted. In the meantime please consider yourselves guests in my tower and feel free to explore Polis, the market is particularly pleasant in the mornings, as is the freshly baked bread at the baker’s stall,” Lexa ended on a light note.

When she scanned the faces of the villagers, of her people, the smiles had returned.

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The doors to her quarters were shut, leaving her alone with Titus. She moved further into the bedroom, her hands immediately moving to unclasp her pauldron as she went. She removed the armour and tossed it haphazardly onto the couch, even though she knew that the uncharacteristic behavior would draw the Flamkeeper’s attention.

“Heda…” Titus started, as if on cue,

“If you are here to berate me for what I said about Clarke in the meeting, please leave it,” Lexa cut in immediately, her tone sharp. She did not turn to look at Titus and instead set about undoing her belt so that she could finally take her coat off.

She heard Titus move towards her and then the man appeared at her side. She sighed and lifted her head and turned to regard him,

“Actually I just wanted to make sure you were well. I know you had no choice but to return to your duties before questions started to get asked, but I also know that you are not really ready for such a burden,” Titus replied and his voice was quiet. Timid even.

Lexa felt her nostrils flare, “Of course I’m not,” Lexa snapped, even though it hurt to raise her voice, “If only I had not been shot in my own tower and then you wouldn’t have to worry so much about my well-being!” Lexa caught herself when she saw the colour leave Titus’s face at her outburst. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Flamekeeper, that was untoward of me,”

“But not undeserved,” Titus spoke and Lexa could see the shame in his face. He clasped his hands in front of him and wrung them, “You should relax now, get some rest,” Titus changed the subject.

“I will,” Lexa said. There was little point in arguing against the advice. She was exhausted and in pain. She finished up undoing her coat and felt herself breathe a little easier as it fell open. She shrugged the garment off and it joined the pauldron on the couch.

“For the record, I thought you spoke excellently at the meeting, Heda,” Titus filled the silence that had fallen. Lexa gave him a nod of thanks and nothing more.

She wanted to question him further, to ask him if those spoken sentiments were true or whether he was just trying to say what she wanted to hear. She could order him to speak truthfully to her. But Lexa also knew that she would not be able to rest with the answer he might give.

A knock on the door took them both by surprise and Lexa turned towards the noise, “Enter!”

The bedroom door opened to reveal Aden. The nightblood stepped into the room and waited, his hands clasped behind his back and his head raised.

“Aden, you should not be disturbing the-” Titus started to chastise the boy but Lexa raised a hand and silenced him,

“It’s alright. How can I help you this evening Aden?”

Aden looked from his Commander to the Flamekeeper and back again, his eyes trying to silently communicate that whatever it was, it was best discussed away from Titus’s ears.

Lexa nodded. “Leave us,” she ordered Titus.

She waited until the man had left and had some time to move away from the room and then she raised a brow at Aden in expectation.

“Heda,” Aden started and at last he moved further into the space, “I was thinking about your lesson the other day. About changing the conclave. And I was wondering if you had any reading material that might give me some inspiration for new types of trial?”

Lexa allowed herself a smile. Most of her people were illiterate. Learning to read was hardly an essential skill when measured against learning how to farm or treat a fever. But it was a skill passed down between leaders in most clans and every nightblood was taught. There was knowledge to be found in the books that survived the old world, knowledge that shouldn’t be forgotten. Reading had in fact always been one of Lexa’s favourite pastimes, something she knew she shared with the eldest nightblood.

“Aden it is late. You should not be worrying about these things at this hour,” Lexa warned, but the smile that remained on her face betrayed her. She was very proud of the boy.

“Responsibility never sleeps,” Aden shot back and the sarcastic tone he used suggested that he was quoting a certain Flamekeeper’s words to her.

“No, but the body needs to,” she argued back. Nevertheless, Lexa began to move until she was stood in front of the bookcase that she kept in her bedroom. The tower had a dedicated library but it was here that she kept her favourite books. She tilted her head and considered Aden’s request as she scanned each title. Finally she picked a large hardback book off of the middle shelf and she thrust it in Aden’s direction.

Aden approached her and took the book.He considered it a moment, taking in the worn blue of the cover and the barely visible illustration of a white wolf, faded with time and wear. He read the cover aloud, “His Dark Materials?”

“It was one of my favourites, when I was your age,” Lexa explained.

Aden began to leaf through the book. “Heda, this is just a collection of children’s stories!” He protested,

“You are a child are you not?”

“Yes but-”

Lexa stopped Aden from saying more by placing a firm hand upon his shoulder, “Are you questioning my decisions as your Commander or my taste in books? One answer will offend me more than the other,” Lexa teased the boy. He gave a grin in response and she returned it, “It’s a good story Aden. And all good stories have important messages at their heart. It might provide you with more inspiration than you think. And if not? At least you will have fun reading it.”

Aden gave a nod of understanding, “What’s it about?” He asked,

“It’s about what all of the best stories are about. Hope. And love,” Lexa said, and then, “There isn’t a day that I’m not proud of you Aden. Of all of the nightbloods. And your dedication to learning and to your duties is admirable for someone so young. But those duties shouldn’t be everything, as important as they are to the future of our people. A very wise person once told me that life should be about more than just surviving. And she is right.”

“Clarke said that, didn’t she?” Aden was far too quick. Lexa still saw him as the small scrawny boy he had been, not the young man he was growing into, and she forgot how cunning he could be. It reminded her of herself more than she liked to admit.

“She did,” Lexa said and she tried not to let her mind wander to the memory of when Clarke had said it, or what had happened after she had. Still her heart ached at the thought of Clarke and the reminder of her absence.

“You love her, don’t you?” Aden asked with all the boldness of his youth.

Lexa looked down at the ground, unable to believe that the young nightblood had managed to make her feel so embarrassed. She looked back up at him, “I do,” she admitted, “I love Clarke.” Just like that, she had said those words aloud, not yet to Clarke herself but still it was progress in that direction. Lexa wished Clarke would hurry back to Polis even as she mentally chastised herself for such thoughts.

Aden grinned at her a while and then spoke; “She’s nice,” he admitted with a shrug, “I mean maybe a little stubborn but-”

“Go read your book, goufa,” Lexa silenced his teasing.

Aden snapped his mouth shut and gave a nod. When he darted out of the room, carrying the novel under his arm, Lexa let out the laugh that had been bubbling in her chest. And then she winced as the action sent a fresh wave of pain through her body. She sucked in a breath and counted in her head until the pain had ebbed to the usual constant, but about bearable, ache. Then she began to scan the bookshelf again for something to do with her night off.

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The items for sale at the stall were of no interest to her, but Ontari’s dark eyes bore into the wares as if she had never seen such treasure before. Her right hand reached upward and tugged the large hood on her cloak to make sure it adequately covered her face and she kept her head bowed low.

“See anything you like?” The stall owner asked her.

“No,” she replied instantly in a low voice. She did not raise her eyes to acknowledge the trader and instead she glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder.

The lawkeeper that had been facing in her direction had since moved along elsewhere and so Ontari turned and skulked away from the stall, weaving through the crowd of shoppers further into the centre of the capital. Ontari grimaced at the chatter around her, at the push and pull of the crowd. She wrinkled her nose at the smells. Food stalls mixed with sweat mixed with dirt. To her, Polis was nothing more than a hive of peasantry and vermin. Nothing about the Trikru capital, made the capital of the Kongeda at the formation of the alliance, appealed to her. Ontari thought of home. The dark quiet walls of the Palace. But there was nothing left for her there any longer.

Ontari took a chance and raised her head to take in the sight of Polis tower. She looked up and up until her eyes reached the ever-burning flame atop the tower. Tonight that flame would go out and be re-lit with her as the new Commander. Tonight, Ontari would slaughter Lexa and her little child army and take the title she had been raised to take. She would honour Queen Nia’s memory by fulfilling her destiny. It was all the purpose Ontari had left.

The young woman gave a hiss as a clumsy trader barreled into her, momentarily unbalanced under the weight of the branch he was carrying, an assortment of pots and pans dangling from it for sale. The man apologised quickly and Ontari hurried away from him before the urge to take her concealed dagger from its sheath and slit the idiots throat right there in the market became too strong to resist. Ontari balled her hands into fists and trudged forward and around and forward again, taking a roundabout route towards the tower base as she waited for the sun to dip below the horizon. There was not long to wait.  
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Lexa settled into the furs on her bed and worked her head further into the soft down of the pillow that she had turned on end and propped against the headboard. Once she was comfortable, she retrieved the leather-bound book from the mattress and raised her knees up so that she could place the book upon her thighs.

The book she had chosen from the shelf was not a novel, but a handwritten journal. Lexa opened it to the first page and took in the scratchy and sharp writing. She had not seen that particular hand in a long time but it felt familiar as it ever did. She began to skim read the page. It detailed different hunting techniques for both large and small game. There were small illustrations, much more skillfully crafted than the words, dotted about the page, examples of snare knots and pictures of footprint shapes.

Lexa smiled and leafed through a few more pages until one caught her attention. She stopped and opened the journal fully on a full page sketch of herself, buck-toothed and pudgy faced at around five years old. Lexa gave a sad smile. It was only sixteen passes of the seasons ago and yet it felt like that illustration had been drawn in another lifetime. In a way it had been. She had just been a young nightblood then. Not even the most promising nightblood in the group. Yet here she was now, the Commander of not just Trikru but the Kongeda. And the person who had drawn her, had captured her at such an innocent time in her life was gone. Lexa gave a sigh.

In all the commotion following the fall of the Mountain, Lexa barely felt like she’d been living the past three months in what one could call peace-time. Between fighting to find Clarke before the Ice Queen, and then having to fight for her own position in the face of Nia’s attempted coup, Lexa had had no time to really process the events that had followed the arrival of the Skaikru. Nor had she found the inclination to start the process of grieving for those she had personally lost.

Now however, with her injuries confining her to her bedroom in the evenings, Lexa found that her mind wandered freely to memories of friends lost. Lexa supposed that this sudden change had a lot to do with her learning that there was indeed hope for some sort of future for her and Clarke. That hope, that moment of weakness, or perhaps bravery, that allowed her to lower her defences to the possibility of a future with someone had somehow also made it easier to face the unchangeable things of the past. Lexa hung onto the idea of reuniting with Clarke and in doing so, she had found herself strong enough to think too of those she would not get to reunite with until her fight was indeed over. Costia. Gustus. And Anya. The journal that Lexa was still absentmindedly paging through had belonged to her old mentor.

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_Lexa stood alone in the bedroom- her bedroom- and took in its decadence. She had been in the room before of course, on the rare occasion that Commander Toman had seen fit to call her to speak with him. But now Commander Toman was dead and gone. No, he lived on inside her head._

_The sixteen year old grit her teeth and brought a hand up to the back of her neck. She felt the bumps of the fresh stitches there. They itched fiercely. Lexa’s head felt like it had been submerged. It felt clammy and heavy and full of thoughts and ideas that were not her own. She would learn to quiet the voices, Titus had promised her. She would learn to choose when to open her mind to the council of her previous incarnations in her waking hours and their voices would otherwise be confined to her dreams. But until she got used to it all she would at first have to learn to put up with the constant ache behind her eyes and at her temples._

_Lexa started when a knock at the door pulled her from her dark thoughts. She breathed deeply and steeled herself before she spoke; “Enter!” She said in the most commanding voice she could muster. It was a low rumble of a sound, far away from the light highness of her real voice, of Lexa’s voice._

_The doors were opened and Lexa turned to find Anya walking into the room. Her old mentor scanned the space critically before she rested her piercing eyes onto Lexa,_

_“Hei, goufa,” Anya spoke. As if it was just another day. As if she had come to fetch Lexa for her sparring lesson._

_Lexa raised an eyebrow. “You better not let Titus hear you calling me that, sis,” Lexa warned,_

_“Back at you,” Anya replied and she gave a smirk._

_They remained silent a while, the sudden shift in their status’ making the atmosphere awkward. That morning, Anya had been Lexa’s mentor, her one-on-one tutor and ward. She had been since Lexa had been brought to Polis at two years old. Now it was evening and Anya was her General and Lexa the Commander._

_“How are you doing?” Anya finally broke the quiet._

_Lexa sucked in her bottom lip and gave a shrug, “I’m fine,” she said defensively._

_Anya gave a nod like she knew not to pry. “I have something for you. An Ascension day gift.” Anya moved forward and as she did so she pulled a leather bound book from her coat pocket._

_Lexa recognised it immediately to be Anya’s journal. Her former mentor had kept it as long as Lexa could remember. It was almost a detailed history of her nightblood training, it’s pages filled with all sorts of notes and illustrations from survival tips to sword-fighting forms. And then there were the sketches. Anya was a skilled artist and in their rare downtime, her old teacher had found great joy in drawing things. The places they had visited as part of Lexa’s training. The people they had encountered. And Lexa herself was the subject of many sketches, the journal as much a record of her growing up as it was of useful information._

_Lexa reached out and took the book from Anya. She flicked to the first page and began to read the scratchy words about different hunting techniques. “This is a generous gift, Anya,” Lexa finally said, “Mochof.”_

_Anya smiled, “Well it’s full of things that I want you to remember,” she offered,_

_Lexa gave a huff, “You were an excellent teacher Anya. I doubt I’ll forget how to tie a snare or how to identify edible mushrooms anytime soon.” Indeed Anya had been a firm mentor and would drill in each lesson as many times as she felt necessary until it had stuck fast in Lexa’s brain._

_Anya shook her head however, “It’s not that that I want you to remember, Lexa. It’s the sketches of you that I want you to treasure.”_

_Lexa creased her brow in confusion, “Why?” She asked._

_Anya closed the remaining distance between them and placed a firm hand on Lexa’s shoulder- the one that wasn’t covered by an enormous pauldron._

_“Because I want you to remember that you were and always will be a small, jumpy strikskrish with an enormous heart. Being Commander is going to change you Lexa, it will have to or you will fall. But never forget to use this,” Anya made a fist with her other hand and placed it against Lexa’s chest where her heart was, “As well as this,” and then she reached and mussed Lexa’s intricately braided hair._

_Lexa felt tears forming in her eyes but she grit her teeth and did not let them fall. She looked up at her former mentor- for all her growth spurts she had never quite managed to reach Anya’s level of lankiness- and gave a nod. “I’ll try,” she said. It was the best she could give._

_Anya returned the nod, “I know you will,” she said, and then, “You’re going to do just fine, goufa. I know it.”_  

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At last Polis market was bathed in darkness as the sun disappeared from the sky. The lamplighters finished their job of illuminating the market square, carrying their long thin torches aloft to light the braziers that lined the pathways. The space began to empty of people as the shoppers, loaded with their purchases, began to make their way home for the night.

Ontari stopped her meandering and made a beeline for the tower whilst there was nobody paying any attention. She walked quickly until she reached the entrance on the west side of the imposing structure. The guards barring the door tightened their grip on their spears as she approached, immediately suspicious at somebody approaching the tower staff entrance rather than the main doors on the opposite side of the circumference. When Ontari got close enough, she briefly pulled back her hood to reveal her identity and the guards stood down.

“I assume you received the payment I promised you?” Ontari drawled.

One of the guards nodded an affirmative. It had not been hard for Ontari to find out that King Roan had found guards to buy out during his imprisonment in the tower during her own stay in the capital. She had worked in the shadows then as she had been trained to do, whilst everyone else focused on preparing for the trial by combat. She had identified and made contact with each man and woman who felt more loyalty to material possessions than to their current leader and she had promised them that should Lexa win the duel, that all would not be over. She had told them how she would still take the throne and that when she arrived to do just that, they would find themselves handsomely rewarded if they were to aid her.

The guards ushered her into the tower. One immediately went back outside, but the other, a burly older man with a long braided and greying beard, stayed with her just inside the entrance.

“You will need to hurry. The handmaidens will be making their way to their rooms for the night by now,” he spoke in a hurried whisper. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I have sketched the route that one of the maids usually takes to her room, I have circled the places where she will likely be out of sight of anyone else.”

Ontari took the map and unfolded it and she studied it carefully. She took in the layout of the building and considered each possible ambush point until she made her decision. She would make her way to the closest place, right by the handmaiden’s room, and wait there. It would be easier than trying to make it further up the tower without being seen. She handed the map back to the guard, confident she had the route memorised, her brain honed for such tasks.

“Burn it,” she ordered. She waited only long enough for the guard to nod in agreement before she darted off further into the tower. It was blissfully quiet, especially on the lower levels and Ontari found that she could make quick progress by hugging tight to the wall. A quick glance around each corner to make sure that path was clear was all it took until she found herself at the entrance to a storeroom. She entered quickly and shut the door behind her. It was a small claustrophobic space, filled with crates of one thing or another. Ontari thought to the map she had just read and moved to the left side of the room. She grabbed the corners of a large crate and dragged it away from the wall. Concealed behind it was an incredibly small hole in the concrete. Ontari grimaced as she got prone on the floor and then she crawled forward into the impossibly tight space. She wriggled and contorted the shape of her body and inched through bit by bit until at last she came out on the other side. She picked herself up.

It had brought her out by the seldom used stairwell and she peered up at the dilapidated steps. They were crumbled and completely collapsed in places. Wooden beams propped the structure up and kept it stable enough to be used in case of the elevator being non-functional. The stairwell was quiet and empty as far up as Ontari could see.

She sprang forward and began to climb the steps two at a time. Where there were no stairs, she would leap gracefully across the gaps, never losing speed, confident in her training that she would not falter and plunge down to her demise. She counted the floors as she went until she came to the right one, almost halfway up.

Aware that she was running short on time, Ontari decided to take a more direct approach to the ambush point. She did not look for a gap in the wall to shimmy through this time and instead stalked towards the main doorway between the stairwell and the tower-proper. She got to the door and reached out with one hand and in a blur of movement, she pulled the door open and pounced to the other side. A single guard was waiting for her there and before she could even wheel around to see who had emerged from the door, Ontari had grabbed her from behind and dragged her back through the door. Ontari locked her arm about the guard's neck and squeezed and squeezed. The guard choked and kicked out as she tried to breathe around the iron grip, but it was no use and after some moments, the guard’s struggles fell away to nothingness as life left her body. Ontari maintained her grip just a little longer, until she could barely keep the body upright and was certain that the guard wasn’t feinting, and then she guided her dead victim quietly onto the floor.

Ontari looked down at the dead guard. She toyed briefly with the idea of kicking the body off the gap in the stairwell. It would be amusing to watch it plummet until it hit the floor. It would make an awful mess from so high up. But that was folly she knew, it would cause far too much noise. So she left the body abandoned in the stairwell and went through the door again into the servant’s quarters.

Ontari worked her way from the outside walls of the tower where the stairwell was further towards the centre. The interior of the tower was a maze of spiralled hallways with room branching off. She could hear snores emanating from some of the rooms as most of the workers had already gone to bed. It was only the handmaidens and other staff that worked at the top of the tower that got to bed much later after they had seen their superiors to their own rest. Ontari finally identified the door to her quarry’s dormitory and she quickly made her way around the next corner and there she waited.

Within minutes she could hear footsteps approaching the room from the other end of the hallway. Ontari counted in her head and listened as the footsteps approached and then she struck. She darted out from the corner, unsheathing her hidden dagger as she did so and grabbed at the handmaiden. One hand came up to cover the woman’s mouth whilst the other kept the blade of the dagger pressed to her neck.

“If you make a noise I will kill you, do you understand?” Ontari whispered coldly.

The handmaiden tried to nod, though the blade pressed at her neck made that difficult to do. Satisfied, Ontari loosened her grip and forcibly spun the woman around to face her.

“Your clothes. Take them off.”

Ontari sneered as she saw tears form in the woman’s eyes. Still, the handmaiden complied and began to strip off the rough spun pants and shirt that marked her profession in the tower. She left the garments at Ontari’s feet.

“Good now turn around and go into your room. If there is anyone else awake in there you will come back out immediately, if not keep walking. Go.”

The handmaiden turned and carefully opened the door to the dormitory. Ontari watched her glance around and then, when the woman continued to walk forward, Ontari followed, her own footsteps totally inaudible on the cracked stone floor.

Ontari motioned with her dagger to the empty bed and waited until the handmaiden had clambered into the covers. The handmaiden was still crying but she had the sense to do so silently. Ontari reached out and forced the woman’s eyelids shut and the woman’s body wracked with a silent terrified sob. Then Ontari clambered on top of her, making sure not to make any noise at all. When she had the handmaiden’s body trapped under her own weight, she placed the blade of the dagger between her teeth to free both hands. With one, she pinched the woman’s nostrils shut and the other hand she clamped over the handmaiden’s mouth.

The woman writhed beneath her, but Ontari kept her balance and allowed her mass to keep the handmaiden from thrashing too wildly. The life in her slipped away and soon she was as still as the guard at the stairwell. Ontari got up off of the bed and straightened out the covers. It looked like the handmaiden was sleeping as she should be at the late hour. Now Ontari removed the cloak she had been wearing all day and she folded it up and stuffed it under the dead woman’s pillow. It left her in just a skintight black leather outfit that was designed for infiltration.

Ontari took the dagger from between her teeth and stalked out of the room. She sheathed the weapon and quickly dressed in the handmaiden’s clothes that were waiting for her on the floor outside the dormitory. With her disguise on she made her way back to the stairwell and she raced up until she was almost at the top. Above her were only the Commander’s private floors and the throne room. The one she was on was dedicated to the nightblood novitiates. She opened the door that led from the stairwell to the hall and this time when the guard turned she merely smiled sweetly at him.

“I’ve forgotten something. Didn’t want to wait for the elevator.”

The guard gave a grumble but nothing more and she stalked past him towards the nightblood’s dormitory. She rounded the corner and found the room with two guards stood in front of the door. She walked towards them, keeping her face neutral until she was stood in front of them.

“The nightbloods are asleep,” one of the guards spoke out, a polite way of telling her to move along.

“Perfect,” she said and she gave a wide smile. In the guards moment of confusion at her response she acted, taking her dagger from its sheath once again and plunging it’s point into the left guards throat in one fluid blur of motion. She retracted the weapon and slashed to the right and so both guards fell to the floor clutching at their gushing necks, bubbling and gurgling as they bled out. Ontari placed the bloody blade between her teeth again and she quietly opened the door to the dormitory. She dragged the dead guards into the room one after the other and left them piled by the doorway. Then she closed the door as quietly as she had opened it and turned to observe the room, dimly lit by a few candles.

Ontari was greeted by the sight of a room full of sleeping children. Ontari took the dagger in her hand again and smirked as she stalked towards the first bed. It was all too easy.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aden tiptoed through the hallway, very aware that he should of been in bed quite some time ago and hoping he would not bump into anyone as he made his way from the library to the dormitory. He had completely lost track of time after he had started to read the book Commander Lexa had recommended to him. Her taste in light reading was indeed as flawless as she purported it to be and he’d been unable to put the book down until he had finished the first story. He was out of luck however and his heart jumped to the back of his throat as he rounded the corner and all but bumped into Flamekeeper Titus and General Indra.

The pair stopped whatever they were discussing and looked down quizzically at Aden. He straightened his back and nodded his head to his superiors.

“Flamekeeper. General,” he addressed them.

“Nightblood Aden? It is late, why are you out of bed?” Titus asked him. There was no anger in his voice, only curiosity. Still, Aden felt his ears grow pink.

“I was in the library, Flamekeeper. I didn’t notice how late it had gotten.”

“Easily done, child,” Indra spoke up and Aden gave her an appreciative smile. He’d always liked the General, had always respected the obvious keen loyalty Indra felt towards their Commander and her vision. Now he silently thanked her for her defence of his actions.

Titus made a noise like he did not agree but he did not protest Indra’s leniency. “Well, get yourself straight to bed now. There is sparring practice in the morning and you know tardiness will not be tolerated,”

“Yes Flamekeeper.”

With that, Aden darted around the adults and made his way more quickly towards the elevator. There was no means of calling it and so it would move continuously up and back down the tower, worked by two burly attendants and a system of rope pulleys. Aden waited until the platform reached him and hopped onto it. The wooden platform worked it’s way down several floors and then he sprung off of it as it passed the one he wanted.

The floor was totally quiet and he made his way to the dormitory. Before he reached the door to the bedroom, Aden froze in place, his eyes widening. There was blood everywhere on the floor around the door and no guards on watch. Aden tiptoed forward and strained his ears. Sure enough, inside he could hear the sounds of a slaughter in progress. He wanted to bolt forward into the room, to try and save whoever might still be alive in there. The thought of the other nightbloods, his friends, his brothers and sisters, attacked by some unknown assailant while they slept made his blood boil. But he knew that he could not go into the room.

Aden wheeled about and walked quickly, picking up to a full run once he was out of earshot of whoever was attacking. He knew he had little time to act on the opportunity that had been gifted to him when he had not made it to bed on time himself. He sprinted not to the elevator- it would be far down the tower now- but to the seldom used stairwell and then he climbed and climbed until he was back on the library floor. He rushed out of the door and made his way down the halls, listening for movement until he finally tracked whom he had been looking for down.

“Flamekeeper!” He shouted and Titus wheeled to face him, “There’s an assassin in the tower!” Aden said before Titus could give a response,

“What do you mean, nightblood?” It was Indra who asked the question.

Aden tried to catch his breath, “When I got to the dormitory there was blood outside and no guards. I could hear…” he tailed off as the horror of what was happening to his friends at that very moment hit him full force, “I could hear someone in the room slaughtering the other nightbloods. You have to warn Lexa!” He all but shouted the last part, forgetting to use his Commander’s title in the the rush of adrenaline. The adults let it pass, now aware of the magnitude of the situation.

“Aden, you must leave Polis immediately,” Titus spoke gravely, “Use the secret tunnels,”

Aden shook his head, “No. I’ve got to go back. I have to try to save-”

General Indra stepped forward and clasped her hands on his upper arms, “It is too late for that child. You would only be killed too. Now do as the Flamekeeper says. If we do not reach the Commander in time, you will be all that is left of her legacy. Go.”

Aden felt his chin wobble as tears formed in his eyes. But he nodded his assent and without another word, he turned and ran back towards the elevator. He would have to scale down the ladder that ran up it’s side to tower basement and escape through the warren of tunnels. As he ran, Aden thought of the family he had lost tonight. And all that could comfort him was the knowledge that at least they would feel nothing in their sleep. At least they weren’t dying during the conclave and at least it had not been him slaughtering his family in the effort to claim a title he had never really wanted. Blurry eyes, Aden kept running.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Titus charged forward into the Commander’s quarters, Indra right on his heels. They both ignored the two guards who watched their dramatic entrance in confusion and stepped into the room behind them,eager to find out what was happening.

“Heda!” Titus shouted, “Heda wake up!”

Lexa woke up with a start from where she had fallen asleep whilst reading, the book still in her lap. She sat up in bed and regarded her unexpected nighttime visitors with bleary eyes,

“What is the meaning of this?” Lexa tried to hiss but her voice came out more as a sleepy croak.

“We are under attack, an assassin has infiltrated the tower and slaughtered the nightbloods in their sleep,” Titus explained, pulling no punches. His heart lurched when he saw the colour drain from Lexa’s young face. The Commander sprang up from the mattress.

“All of them?” Lexa whispered once she was stood up, and her jaw worked furiously as she was obviously fighting back tears.

“No. Aden was not yet asleep. He came and warned us and we instructed him to get out of the capital. I have faith the boy will make it.”

Lexa gave a nod. Aware that she had little time, she moved to her large closet and grabbed some clothes, simple garments that would not betray her rank. She dressed quickly, without thought of modesty, and then straightened and regarded Titus again.

“It’s the Azgeda nightblood. Ontari. Here to fulfill her life’s training,” Lexa said, certainty in her voice.

Titus nodded in agreement at the assumption, “You need to leave, to take the flame far away from her, Heda. Without it she cannot ascend and you may return to defeat her soon.”

Titus watched as Lexa absentmindedly lifted a hand to the back of her neck.

“It would be easier to wait for her to come now,” Lexa argued.

“No, Heda,” it was Indra who spoke this time, “You are still too weak from your injury. If it is the Azgeda nightblood, then she has been trained her whole life to defeat you. You would not win. And she will have rightfully made claim to the Commander’s spirit when she defeats you.”

Lexa said nothing.

Titus turned towards the guards who had been watching from the doorway, no doubt ready to die defending their Commander should Ontari have arrived at the bedroom already. Titus approached them, “Your swords and sheaths,” he said.

Immediately they complied with the order and removed the swords that they carried at their sides and placed them into Titus’s waiting arms. He carried them over to Lexa and passed them to his Commander.

Lexa took them and fastened them to her back in a cross. Then she moved to a cabinet and from one of the drawers she pulled out her treasured dagger. Titus knew that she would never let the weapon fall into anyone else’s hands, for it held such sentimental value to her. Costia had forged it. Lexa strapped the dagger to her thigh and then she moved back towards the bed. Titus moved towards the large frame too as did Indra and all together they dragged the ornate thing away from the wall, revealing a hidden passageway. There was a reason why this room had been made the Commander’s private quarters and that was it.

The final thing Lexa did was reach and retrieve the book- no journal- she had been reading that night. She slipped it into one of the deep pockets on her burlap cloak and gave a nod that she was ready to make her escape.

“Titus, you must stop her from taking Command however you can. If she does, the blockade will be turned into an army and ordered to lay waste to Arkadia. You remember what I made you swear to me?”

Titus felt his stomach coil as he remembered exactly what he had sworn and when he had sworn it, “Of course Heda. Ontari will not be rightful Commander and nobody will follow her if I have to die to make that so,” he promised and he meant every word.

“And you must be convincing yourself. Make her trust you. Let her confide in you. Without that, she will surely have you slaughtered too.”

Titus gulped and gave a nod.

“Come, Heda, I will see you to the outskirts of the city myself,” Indra said and she began to usher the Commander into the passageway. Lexa let herself be led, the young leader was no doubt reeling from the shocking turn of events although she hid it well behind her emotionless features.

They were a ways into the tunnel when Titus had a thought and he called into the tower after his Commander, after Lexa; “Heda! May we meet again!”

Lexa whipped her head round over her shoulder in shock, but then she managed a sort of sad smile and gave him a nod before the darkness of the passage swallowed the shape of her and Indra.

Titus moved quickly and using all of his strength, he pushed the bed back into place. Then he turned towards the door and waited for the inevitable arrival of the assassin.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They made it to the edge of the capital in record time and darted a ways into the forest that grew all around the city. Once they were reasonably under cover, Lexa stopped and turned to her General. The fog of their exhales mixed in the cool night air and they each caught their breath.

“I should go with you, Heda. I can still deliver the order for the blockade to disband before the usurper realises what has happened. It will buy us more time,” Indra said.

It was a good idea, but Lexa shook her head nonetheless, “No,” she replied, “I need you to stay in Polis, Indra. I need you to watch over Titus for me,” Lexa requested of her most trusted General.

Indra raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“I want to believe I can trust him, truly. But we both know that were it not for my accident he would still be calling for an end to blood must not have blood. No doubt revoking that law will be the first thing Ontari promises, to try to sweeten the Kongeda to her rule. It may be too difficult for Titus to resist falling to the promise of having the traditions he cherishes reestablished. You cannot let that happen, Indra. Promise me.”

That Lexa asked Indra to promise rather than swear meant a lot. It was more a request from one friend to another than an order given from a superior to her General.

Indra regarded her, her dark, clever eyes sparkling in the twilight. She gave a nod. “I promise, Heda.”

Lexa reached out her hand and the pair clasped forearms, “I am forever grateful for your loyalty, Indra. And your council. Goodbye my dear friend,”

Indra gave a rare smile at the sentiment, shared but never spoken until this moment, “Farewell for now Heda. Stay safe. And send my regards to Octavia should you encounter her on your travels,” Indra replied, like she knew exactly where Lexa intended to go first.

“I will,” Lexa made her own promise and with that they parted. Indra turned and began to make her way back into the city whilst Lexa stood a while longer and took in the expanse of dark woods before her.

With a sigh, Lexa began to move, one foot in front of the other. She felt sick at heart as she tried not to think about the slaughtered nightbloods, tried not to imagine their lifeless little bodies still tucked under their blackened blankets. She tried instead to focus on the fact that Aden at least had had the chance to escape. And she thought of the woman whom, with some luck, Lexa would get to see again in twelve hours or so. The nighttime forest seemed suddenly a little brighter- coloured with memories of sunshine hair and bright blue eyes- as Lexa walked away from her home, away from her legacy, and into a most uncertain future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eliza Taylor voice: Lexaaaa!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the surprise flashback. I've always wanted to explore Lexa and Anya's relationship in a bit more depth, so I couldn't resist taking the chance. And Lexa, your taste in books is flawless, if I do say so myself.


	6. Finding Infinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and her council must deal with the fallout following the mysterious collapse of three of Arkadia's residents. On top of that, the new leader must tackle the very real threat of starvation that now looms over the settlement and Lincoln and Octavia take desperate measures to try to secure some food. Meanwhile, Abby finds herself struggling to return to work following Marcus's death. Finally, an unexpected visitor makes themselves known and brings with them dire news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this update took a bit longer than usual, I took a couple of weeks off whilst I went gallivanting around the country to visit friends and then of course I had to actually write the chapter this last week.

Chapter 6: Finding Infinity

Clarke gripped tightly to the metal bars at the side of Raven’s cot in the medical bay with both hands. She grimaced as she peered down at her friend's face. Raven was expressionless, eyes closed and body still, whilst her mind was trapped who knew where. At least she didn’t appear to be in any pain, that was some small comfort.

“Clarke?” Sinclair’s voice jerked Clarke from her worries. She snapped her head up to regard the chief engineer and member of her council. “Did you hear me?”

“Of course,” Clarke replied, “You’ve sent Octavia and Lincoln to the blockade line to parlay for supplies. It’s a good idea.”

Sinclair gave a satisfied nod, “And the other hunting groups? They need to be sent out on some sort of rota to cover the whole area in the quickest time possible.”

“I’m sorry Sinclair, can you just-” Clarke interrupted him and looked back down at her comatose friend. Then she glanced to the right, towards two more beds, on which Hannah Green and Paul Peterson were lain in the same unresponsive condition. Those two had been found yesterday evening, when Miller had raised the alarm from the cell room following their strange simultaneous collapse. Raven however, had not been found until the morning when Clarke had by chance decided to pay her friend a visit. Raven had been in a heap on the floor, and Monty had been working beside her as if nothing at all was amiss. When Clarke had asked Monty why he hadn’t called for help, he’d ignored her and continued typing. When she’d shouted at him, it had done no better. With no alternative other than locking him away from the console against his will, she had left Monty to his work and had felt hopeless for it.

Clarke knew it had something to do with Jaha’s chips, she was sure of it. Jaha had mentioned something called ‘The City of Light’ when she had questioned him yesterday. Clarke assumed that that was the name given to the virtual reality Murphy had told her about. The chips gave your mind access to the so called City of Light. And now Clarke’s best guess was that the three comatose patients were trapped there somehow. Whether they were trapped of their own volition she did not know, but either way, Clarke wanted them awake again. Whatever solace a virtual reality could offer, it was not real and it was no solution to the problems they had each faced during their time on the ground.

The acting Chancellor wanted nothing more than to rush off and deal with the looming threat posed by the chips immediately. She wanted to coax answers out of Thelonius Jaha; she wanted to collect testimonies from people who had and hadn’t taken the chips on what effect they seemed to have on people. Instead, she had been corralled in the medical bay by her own council and told quite plainly that she needed to pay most attention to the food crisis. Sinclair and Miller senior were right, that was a priority, but they could not or would not recognise that the chips were just as much as a threat to Arkadia as starvation was.

“I know you are worried about your friend and the other two Clarke, but if we don’t do something about the food shortage soon we are going to starve out before the blockade is lifted. If it’s going to be lifted at all,” David Miller spoke up for the cause now,

“It will be lifted,” Clarke almost snapped, “There are a million reasons why Indra might have gotten delayed in Polis. But she will come back and the blockade will be lifted.”

“Of course,” David answered back, though he sounded doubtful.

“Look, I know that you don’t see dealing with the patients as a priority-” Clarke started,

“They aren’t. Your mother has examined all three of them and they are in a stable, if unresponsive, condition. They aren’t likely to get worse, the people who are awake, and starving, are,” Sinclair argued.

Clarke flared her nostrils at the interruption, but let it slide. “But I know that dealing with the chips Jaha has been giving out freely is something that needs to be curbed immediately. So I’ll see to it on my own and delegate the responsibility of arranging the foraging and hunting rotas to you two, ok?”

Miller and Sinclair glanced at one another and Clarke watched with growing impatience as they had a silent conversation. Finally, the two men nodded to one another.

“Alright,” Miller confirmed, “Sinclair and I will see to it that teams are sent out to search for food within the five-miled safe zone around Arkadia. Would you like us to run the teams and rotas past you before we give the orders?”

Clarke shook her head, “No. I trust you both to do a good job.” She raised a hand and rubbed at her forehead. It felt like she’d had a constant headache since she’d taken the position as Chancellor. She was already well acquainted with the feeling of being pulled in every direction, and yet the fact that she officially held a leadership position now seemed to magnify the feeling tenfold. 

Miller and Sinclair both gave her a nod and made their leave from the medical bay to get to work. Clarke needed to move too, now that she’d taken the matter of dealing with Jaha into her own hands. Still, she lingered a while longer and resumed studying Raven’s face.

“Where are you Raven?” she whispered, “Where are you?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa stretched her legs out in front of her on the soft, peaty ground of the woods. She had propped herself up against a large tree trunk to give herself a breather. If her estimations were correct, which they almost always were, she was now very close to the perimeter of the blockade she had put into place around Arkadia and so the threat of detection was higher than ever. She had pushed herself to keep moving throughout the night and had made excellent time up to this point. It had been easy enough to pick her way through the trees, avoiding the roads and tracks. But it was still exertion that her healing body was not at all ready for and as Lexa stretched out against the trunk, she had to suppress a groan as her body protested the action.

The Commander regulated her breathing and closed her eyes. She let her mind go completely quiet and then she focused solely on managing the pain she could feel. Her feet were tired, her legs burning from non-stop use. But most of all, it was her abdomen that throbbed and pulsed with pain, the efforts of moving for so long had certainly upset the bullet wound. Lexa continued to focus on the pain as she breathed deeply and after some time she felt the unpleasant aches and hurts begin to ebb away until eventually they could not be felt at all.

Lexa picked herself up off of the floor and dusted her pants off. She tightened the cloak around herself and put the swords she had removed and placed on the ground back in their sheaths. She quickly checked the cloak pocket to make sure Anya’s journal was still safe inside, and then she began to move again with renewed vigour. Lexa walked and walked until the sounds of human life began to filter through the trees. She backed up against a tree trunk and then peered around it. At last, the first tents of the blockade were in view.

There were several approaches Lexa could take. She worked her jaw as she considered them. She was disguised and could possibly walk her way through the camp without much hassle. But she would not be able to cross over the blockade line without being seen. Instead it was best to avoid being seen altogether. Lexa propelled herself off of the trunk and began to walk again, this time she skirted the blockade perimeter rather than approach it further, until she reached a place where the trees were particularly dense and, importantly, old and sturdy. She approached a tree with a low branch, paused to check her weapons were secure, and pulled herself up onto it and then proceeded to climb to the very top.

When she reached the top of the canopy, Lexa paused. She was infinitely thankful for her ability to manage her pain receptors, though it was something she only ever did when absolutely necessary. Feeling pain was important, it was your body’s way of telling you what it needed, whether or not doing something like climbing trees was a good idea at the present time. Lexa knew she’d never have managed the climb without using the flame to reduce the pain she was in. She also knew that the moment she allowed her pain receptors to return to normal function, she would pay dearly for taxing her injured body so greatly.

Lexa tried not to think about that any longer and focused instead on what she could see from her vantage point. The tents of the blockade camp were erected in every space between the foliage of the forest and gathered in greater numbers in the small clearings that she could see. She would have to avoid those clearings and try to pass over the whole blockade line and well into the safe zone around Arkadia without ever leaving the woods. Keeping a firm grip on a branch with one hand, Lexa raised the other and used it to shield her eyes as she peered up into the cloudy sky. She scanned the expanse until she found where the sun was, its light filtering weakly through the clouds and she used its position to gauge which direction was which. She pivoted herself on the branch she was stood on until her body was facing north and then she reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out Anya’s journal. Lexa flipped immediately to the very back page, where a rough sketch of Trikru territory had been produced by her old mentor. Lexa glanced over the map and mentally placed Arkadia’s position and then she studied the shape of the woods around the settlement, marked in charcoal on the map whilst clear areas had been left blank.

Eyes darted over the map and absorbed the necessary information as a route formed in Lexa’s mind. She glanced up from the journal and tried to trace the route with her eyes over the stretching canopy of the woods. Once Lexa was satisfied, she closed the journal and placed it back into her pocket.

“Mochof, sis,” Lexa whispered into the muggy air. Then she began to move, climbing and swinging from tree to tree, closer and closer to Arkadia, her own warriors below her none the wiser to her presence. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trigedasleng being spoken between Lincoln and the Trikru warrior was far too fast for even Octavia to follow. She merely stood and waited for the two men to finish, her neck craning as she looked from the warrior, to her lover, and then back again as the men parlayed. Finally, the incessant chatter came to a halt.

“Well?” Octavia asked. Lincoln gave a sigh and shook his head in defeat.

“They won’t budge. Arlin says that Skaikru should have spent more time gathering food stores and less time attacking innocent warriors,” Lincoln said.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Nou skrish,” she muttered. Then she turned her attention to Arlin and she attempted a smile. It was not returned. Octavia balled her fists. “Look, Arlin, you’re right. We should have gotten our priorities right in the first place. But we didn’t. And now my people are starving.”

Arlin raised an eyebrow at her and Octavia had to grit her teeth. Then she had an idea of how to turn the argument to her favour, though she knew it was a risk. She opened her mouth and spoke before she could think to regret it; “Look, the message to lift the blockade has been delayed, but we both know it’s coming, right?”

Arlin gave a shrug.

“So nobody prepared for the blockade to last this long. But I don’t think that the Commander will be pleased to find out that you let Skaikru starve- let Wanheda- starve out just because of a delayed message!” Octavia made sure to really stress Clarke’s grounder title. It seemed to have the desired effect because Arlin’s eyes noticeably widened at Octavia’s words.

Arlin chewed his bottom lip and then gave a huff. He turned and shouted into the ranks. After a short wait, two more warriors moved forward out of the tent line, carrying a dead panther between them. Octavia gave a sigh of relief as the panther was unceremoniously dumped on the Arkadia side of the blockade line.

“Mochof, Arlin,” she thanked the warrior sincerely. It wasn’t much at all to share around the whole settlement, but it was still more than she thought they’d get after the unpromising start to the negotiations. 

Octavia waited whilst Lincoln picked up the panther and hefted it onto his shoulders. The pair made to leave the blockade line.

“Hodop!” Arlin shouted after them as the began to turn away. They turned back. 

Octavia watched as the warrior reached into a pocket in the inside of his overcoat and pulled out a small pouch. He thrust it out towards her. She took the pouch with a frown and opened it up. There were ground herbs inside it, and Octavia smirked.

“It isn’t the freshest kill. It’ll taste like skrish without flavouring,” Arlin grumbled.

Octavia sealed the pouch back up and held it tightly in her fist. She gave Arlin a nod of thanks and then she and Lincoln turned away and began the five mile walk back to Arkadia.

When they were out of earshot, Octavia saw Lincoln turn his head towards her out of the corner of her eye. She regarded him.

“I can’t believe you just name-dropped Clarke’s title like that,” Lincoln said with a grin.

Octavia smiled back. “Don’t tell Clarke,” she replied. The couple shared a laugh as they walked on.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door to the cell room slid shut behind Clarke and she moved further into the room. Nate Miller and Harper were on duty as usual and she gave them both a half smile despite the fact that her being in the cell room unsettled her.

“Chancellor,” Miller addressed her with a curt bob of the head.

Clarke wanted to roll her eyes at the formality but she was in plain view of the prisoners. She knew that it was important that they see her position as Chancellor being respected and that she in turn took her leadership seriously.

“Miller. Harper.” Clarke responded to her guards and then she approached the large cell and looked through the bars at the prisoners, at Pike’s loyalists. “How are we doing?” Clarke asked and she turned to Miller.

Miller cocked his head, “Everything’s quiet and back to normal after yesterday’s freak show,” Miller replied.

Clarke raised her eyebrows and fixed the guardsman with a bemused glare,

“After the accident…” Miller corrected himself.

The Chancellor gave a nod, satisfied. She held no sympathy for the prisoners, but she would not see unnecessary hurt caused among them because of some badly chosen words. Clarke turned back to the prisoners,

“You’ll all be pleased to hear that Hannah and Paul are both in stable conditions in the medical bay. They have not woken up, but their vitals are strong and they don’t appear to be suffering in any way.”

Clarke waited but not one of the prisoners gave a reply. In fact, none of them seemed to really be listening to her. Unperturbed, Clarke spoke again; “I also want to assure you that I’m doing everything I can to get to the bottom of what happened to the both of them and to see that they wake up soon.”

“What? So that they can return to their cell and continue to starve to death with the rest of us?” It was Gillmer who spoke up from inside the cell. “Go float yourself, grounder.” Gillmer spat the last word out.

Clarke sneered and wrapped her hands around the prison bars. “Skaikru is part of the Coalition again,” Clarke snapped back, putting great emphasis on the use of the Trigedasleng name for her people because she knew that would annoy Gillmer greatly; “That makes you all grounders too,” she finished. Then she turned on her heel away from the larger cell before another retort could come. 

Clarke caught the smirk on Harper’s face and now that her back was turned and her face concealed from Pike’s groupies, Clarke dared to return it with her own devilish grin. Her face soon settled back into passivity however as she moved towards the small cell that Harper was tasked with guarding. Bellamy’s cell.

She had intended to approach Bellamy carefully, but Gillmer’s words had left her more incensed than she liked to admit and so Clarke sauntered up to the small cell and looked upon it’s resident as she might inspect a bit of mud stuck to her boot. Bellamy was sat far back in the tight space, his form obscured by shadows. He had not yet dared to lift his eyes to regard Clarke. She waited a moment.

“Bell?” Clarke called into the cell. She was met with stony silence, “Bell, I know you don’t want to see me but I want to ask you some questions about what happened yesterday. That’s it.”

“Didn’t Miller already tell you everything?” Bellamy grumbled a reply at last.

Clarke glanced over her shoulder to look at Miller and the she turned back, “Yes, but I want a second opinion,” Clarke said, and then; “Bellamy, we found Raven in the same state this morning. She’s in the medical bay with the other two, in a coma just like Hannah and Paul.”

Finally Bellamy snapped his hanging head up and met Clarke’s eyes. “Raven?” he asked and the concern was evident in his voice. Clarke gave a sad nod. Bellamy looked away from her and stared towards the prison wall. “How can you trust me to give you a truthful answer?” Bellamy asked her.

“Because, for once, lying won’t benefit you in any way,” Clarke shot the answer back with even more venom than she had intended to. She was still deeply conflicted about her friend, or former friend. Though she hated to see him look so pathetic in the cell she had locked him away in, still she had to admit that there was also a great deal of satisfaction at knowing that the man was finally having to really confront the consequences to his actions. There was after all, little else to do with one’s time when locked away.

Bellamy looked at her again. “What do you want to know, Chancellor Griffin?”

Hearing Bellamy use her title like that almost made Clarke wince. She kept her cool however and spoke up; “Just tell me what you saw,” she prompted.

“Paul Peterson came into the cell room. After talking with Miller, he approached the cell and handed something to Hannah. Told her it was a gift from Monty. Whatever it was, Hannah put it in her mouth and then not long after they both collapsed,” Bellamy droned out the events.

“One of Jaha’s chips? Is that what Hannah took?” Clarke asked.

Bellamy frowned at her, “Chips? What are you talking about, those things that Jaha keeps pushing onto people?”

Clarke almost rolled her eyes, “He hasn’t just been pushing them onto people, Bell! People have been taking them willingly. And I’m sure they’re responsible for the comas.”

Bellamy merely shrugged.

“I though Pike would have told his second in command about something like that?” Clarke mused aloud, “Maybe he didn’t want to risk distracting you from your blind hatred of the grounders long enough for you to realise what an idiot you were being,” she added and that earned her the biggest reaction yet as Bellamy sprang onto his feet and approached her with a defiant look upon his face. Clarke raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you still questioning a witness or just insulting a prisoner now, Chancellor?” 

Clarke almost sniggered, “Assure me that you’ve told me everything you can and I’ll go away,” she replied.

Bellamy grimaced. “Peterson was acting weird, I guess,” he said, “I don’t know, like someone else was talking through him or something. He didn’t sound like himself.”

“It’s the chips,” Clarke stated with certainty, “People have been taking them to stop pain but they are doing much, much worse than that.”

“I’m not surprised,” Bellamy responded, “Slowly starving to death hurts like hell,” he chided.

Clarke glared at him, “Do I really need to recount the course of events that led to the blockade being put into place? Have you really forgotten about the three hundred innocent lives you took already?” she spat.

Bellamy glared back at her, but Clarke caught the way his jaw tightened and she knew she had struck a nerve.

“It isn’t nice is it?” Clarke asked, and then she waited.

“What isn’t?” Bellamy prompted, obviously impatient to see the back of her,

“Being made to feel like you’re to blame for all the terrible things that have happened to the people you care about.”

At that, Bellamy almost jumped back from the bars and his head dropped in shame. Clarke allowed herself to watch his suffering, to revel in it just a little, before she turned and stomped out of the room, arms swinging at her sides.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The route through the underbrush of the woods had been especially difficult to navigate with the weight of the panther upon his back. As Lincoln stepped carefully over roots and dodged especially muddy patches, the movement would jostle the kill and he had nearly dropped the beast several times. Presently, the panther was slipping off of his shoulders again so Lincoln paused and hefted the animal back secure.

“Are you sure you can manage that?” Octavia asked him yet again. 

“I’m fine Octavia. Look, we are nearly out of the woods,” Lincoln replied nonchalantly. He cocked his head forward to prove his point- they were indeed approaching the clearing in which Arkadia stood.

“Alright,” Octavia replied, “I mean I could just…” Octavia switched from Lincoln’s left side to his right and then she made a grab at the panther’s swinging tail and held it aloft in her hands as if that was any help at all.

Lincoln stopped dead and fixed his eyes on Octavia, his eyebrows raised and his expression stern. His front did not last however and he soon caved and gave out a laugh.

“Wow, it still feels weird to hear you do that,” Octavia mused and so Lincoln laughed even louder just because he knew the sound would make her happy.

The couple were still laughing together as they broke through the treeline. Finally, the ground was even and Arkadia was in sight. Still the panther was growing uncomfortably heavy on Lincoln’s shoulders.

“Alright, let’s half and half this beast for the final stretch. We’ll get to the hungry mouths faster,” Lincoln admitted defeat and hefted the animal off of his back and onto the grass.

“Right, get it to Arkadia faster. That’s why you’ve finally stopped showing off,” Octavia teased.

Lincoln shook his head but did not make his own retort. Instead he bent forward and took the panther’s front paws in his hands and then waited for Octavia to do the same with the back ones. Before she could however, a voice rang out from the woods they had just left,

“Lincoln! Octavia! Wait!” the voice cried out and then a cloaked figure appeared before them out of the shadows of the trees. It appeared that they had been tailed.

Lincoln glanced to Octavia and was unsurprised to find that she had already drawn her machete and dropped into a defensive stance.

“Are you bringing news of the blockade or has Arlin changed his mind about the food?” Octavia called out to the figure. The person in the cloak stood perfectly still.

“Neither, I’m afraid,” the person spoke and now Lincoln placed the woman’s voice and his eyes widened in shock. The woman reached her arms up and threw off the hood of the cloak and there before him was the Commander. “Please, I need you to ask Clarke to meet me out here,” Lexa spoke and her voice was quiet and grave. Lincoln knew that something terrible had happened, why else would Lexa have broken the terms of her own blockade and trespassed in the five-mile safe zone?

“Commander,” Lincoln addressed Lexa and gave a nod of respect. “Why have you come here?”

Lexa opened her mouth but then closed it again. The Commander looked tired, defeated even, and she struggled to meet Lincoln’s gaze whereas usually her eyes could easily pierce through even the toughest ego. “A situation has arose in the Capital,” she finally revealed, “Fetch Clarke, she needs to know. Please?”

Lincoln and Octavia shared a concerned look. Lincoln had never heard the Commander sound so desperate and unsure as she did then.

“We will,” Octavia said as she sheathed her weapon. “Lincoln, let’s go.”

Together, they lifted the panther off the floor by its paws and they began the final stretch to the gates of Arkadia, leaving the Commander to wait by the treeline.

“What do you think has happened?” Octavia whispered to him. Lincoln regarded her.

“Nothing good,” he said, and all the levity provided by their little adventure outside of Arkadia’s metal walls fell away.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abby lifted one of Raven’s eyelids and shone the light directly at the pupil. There was absolutely no response and Abby gave an exhale.

“Abby come on, you’ve tried that almost every ten minutes. It’s just going to make you feel worse. There’s nothing you can do for them,” Jackson’s voice rang out from the opposite end of the medical wing. He was stood at a console to make himself look busy but Abby knew that he hadn’t lifted a finger all day. She frowned.

“That’s hardly a comforting tone for a doctor to take,” Abby chided.

Jackson turned away from the console and crossed his arms, “No but it’s the truth. Leave them be.”

Abby felt a surge of anger at Jackson’s lack of concern. “Leave them be? Jackson these are your friends, your people! Why aren’t you trying to help them?” she demanded.

“Maybe I know that they are in a better place,” Jackson replied.

Abby couldn’t stop herself. She gave a growl and threw the light petulantly to the floor. The thing didn’t have the decency to break however and it only left Abby feeling more frustrated and now, on top of that, sheepish at her childishness. She raised a hand and rubbed her forehead.

“Maybe you need more time before you return to work,” Jackson stated.

“Oh? Trying to get rid of me now?” Abby whispered dangerously and she could still feel anger boiling in her gut.

“Not at all. But you are still hurting about Marcus and it’s affecting your work, making you irrational-”

“Of course. Goodness forbid I be allowed to grieve,” Abby muttered. Jackson ignored her and continued on,

“As your friend I just don’t think you should be around the patients right now. Unless…”

Abby snapped her head up and her lips thinned. “Don’t you dare say what I think you are about to say, Jackson,” she warned and she approached the man and looked him squarely in the eyes. “You were the one weren’t you? You helped Jaha steal the chips back.”

Jackson’s silence was damning.

“And now you are trying to use my grief, my necessary human reaction to the loss of someone dear, to try and force one of those things on me,” Abby snarled. She pointed towards the comatose patients, “Look at them Jackson! This isn’t right! That is what those chips have done to those people. Wake up!”

Jackson cocked his head to the side, “How can you be sure of that?” he spoke and his voice was eerily calm.

As if on cue, the door to the medical bay slid open and Clarke stepped into the room with a frown upon her face,

“Mom! I’ve just spoken to Bellamy. The comas are definitely a side effect of Jaha’s chips.”

Abby turned from her daughter back to Jackson, her expression stony.

“You need to tell your daughter to stop meddling,” Jackson hissed at her and then his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

Abby barely registered what had happened and in an instant, Clarke had rushed over and was already attempting to rouse Jackson.

“No no no!” Clarke wailed as her attempts grew desperate.

Abby shook herself out of the shock and tried to pull her daughter away, “Clarke! Clarke come on, help me get him onto a bed. He isn’t going to wake up, just like the others.”

Abby and her daughter lugged Jackson to an empty cot between them. They shared a grave look from either side of the bed.

Clarke shook her head and Abby caught the way her lips began to tremble. “I can’t help any of them,” Clarke whispered.

Immediately, Abby rounded the bed and took her daughter into her arms, “Hush. You can and you will figure this out Clarke. You will help us just like always,” Abby whispered and she stroked Clarke’s hair as her daughter tightened the hug.

The door slid open again and this time it was Octavia who walked through. Abby and Clarke parted and regarded the new arrival. There was an unsettling look upon Octavia’s face as she walked towards them.

“Clarke?” she started, “I’m sorry to interrupt but there’s someone who needs to see you outside the walls. They are waiting at the treeline, walk west and you’ll spot them.”

Abby looked from Octavia to her daughter. Clark’s brow was furrowed as it so often was these days.

“Who is it?” Clarke asked.

Octavia bit her lip, “It’s better you go find that out for yourself,” she replied cryptically. “It’s urgent,” she said, “Don’t worry, I’ll hold down the fort whilst you are gone.”

“Well I’m not going to be gone long,” Clarke replied and Abby was sure Clarke meant it. Still, Abby had an inkling that Octavia was correct in assuming that Clarke would be absent from Arkadia for longer than Clarke expected. Abby caught the half smile that Octavia gave,

“Oh, I think you might be,” she said, and it confirmed Abby’s suspicions.

Abby turned to her daughter, “No time to lose,” she urged, “Go.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke’s arms swung wildly as she made her way due west towards the woods at an almost jog. Octavia had said that the matter was urgent and Clarke was inclined to believe her friend and so in no time at all, Clarke reached the treeline. There was nobody in sight however and Clarke creased her brow. She peered into the darkness of the trees and looked for any sign of movement. Nothing at all shifted and then at last, a cloaked figure made itself visible from where it had been concealed behind a trunk.

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat as she squinted into the dank space and studied the figure. When Octavia had assured Clarke that this meeting would take a while, Clarke had hoped against hope that that was because one particular person had come to Arkadia to see her. But on the journey to the treeline, realism had caught up with Clarke and by now she had all but given up on the chance that her visitor might just be who she dreamed it would be. And yet, as the figure moved further towards her and out of the shadows of the woods, Clarke’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Even with the cloak concealing her features, Clarke recognised the figure underneath, the length of her strides, as easily as she might identify the back of her own hand.

“We meet again, Clarke,” Lexa’s voice emanated from under the hood and then Clarke’s visitor reached up and threw the fabric away from her face.

Clarke wanted to laugh at the sound of her name being spoken in Lexa’s particular way. She wanted to burst into tears because there Lexa was, stood right before her, when Clarke had thought her to be miles away not a moment ago. Instead, Clarke barrelled forward and threw her arms around Lexa and she buried her face in Lexa’s neck.

“Lexa?” Clarke murmured into her skin and although her first instinct had told her that it would be Lexa who was waiting for her, before doubt had crept it, still her voice betrayed utter disbelief.

Lexa responded by wrapping her own arms around Clarke’s waist and she tightened the embrace. “I’m here, Clarke. I’m really here,” she whispered against Clarke’s hair.

Clarke leaned back so that she could study Lexa’s face and although at first her stomach fluttered with by now familiar butterflies at the sight before her, soon that fluttering gave way to a more unpleasant sinking feeling. Lexa looked exhausted, her skin pale and clammy. And though her eyes were bright as ever, they somehow lacked their usual inquisitive glimmer.

“Why are you here, Lexa?” Clarke asked quietly and then, “What’s happened?” Clarke was certain something awful had prompted this visit. After all, spontaneous social calls were never going to be a part of their relationship. 

Clarke’s fears were realised when Lexa’s bottom lip began to tremble as she tried to speak, “There’s been-” Lexa croaked, “There’s been a coup.”

Clarke’s eyes widened in shock and concern. “What?”

Lexa tightened her jaw. By now, tears were streaming unbidden down her face. Clarke cupped Lexa’s cheeks and wiped the droplets away with her thumbs. “The Azgeda nightblood, Ontari, she infiltrated the tower last night and…” Lexa trailed off.

“Are you hurt?” Clarke almost shouted she was so worried.

Lexa shook her head, “No. No more than I already was, at least.”

That was a small relief. “How did you get away?” Clarke demanded.

“Aden,” Lexa answered weakly, “He warned Titus and Indra and then they came to my room to wake me. They told Aden to get himself out too because-” this time a wrenching sob cut Lexa’s words off and the woman sank to her knees. Not wanting to let go of her, Clarke followed suit. Lexa’s tears were coming furiously now and Clark could not wipe them all away, although she tried. She did not prompt Lexa further, for she thought she knew what Lexa was trying to tell her, and she waited for Lexa to find the strength to say it aloud, “He’s the only one left, Clarke. If he got out, he’s the only one left. Ontari-” Lexa could not go on any further and she collapsed back into Clarke’s arms, desperate to be held. Clarke wrapped her arms back around Lexa’s frame and rubbed a hand down her back.

“Lexa, I’m so sorry,” Clarke whispered, “I am so, so sorry.” She held tightly to Lexa and let the woman cry more than Clarke had ever seen her cry before. Clarke’s arms tightened further when she felt Lexa’s whole body shake with the force of her sobs. The pair stayed like that, knelt in the grass and clinging to each other like their lives depended on it for a while, until finally Lexa’s body began to still and the heartbreaking sounds of her crying faded away.

“We have lingered here too long, Clarke,” Lexa whispered hoarsely, and she pulled out of Clarke’s vice like hold and stood back up. Then Lexa offered out a hand and Clarke took it in her own and allowed herself to be pulled up onto her own feet.

Clarke studied Lexa a moment and then, as Lexa’s words finally registered with her, she bristled. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have come here, it’s the first place Ontari will look for you,” she chastised gently, though of course she knew Lexa would never have considered for one second going into hiding without first letting Clarke know what had happened.

“I know,” Lexa admitted, “I cannot stay here if I am to keep the flame- the spirit- out of Ontari’s reach. I’m sorry, Clarke.”

Clarke almost sniggered despite herself, “Don’t be, I understand. I already told you a long time ago that your spirit needs to stay where it is,” she tried to tease, to lighten the mood. It earned her the faintest hint of a sad smile from Lexa and Clarke felt thrilled. “Do you know where you’ll go? I get it if you can’t tell me.”

Lexa gave a shrug and a heavy sigh, “The woods are full of places to hide. I’ll manage, Clarke.”

Clarke was struck then by an idea. “I know a place,” she stated.

Lexa’s eyes widened in anticipation.

“There’s a cave not too far. I used it for a while when I went off on my own. It was the first camp I made actually, but it should still have a few emergency supplies.”

“Where?” Lexa asked. She no doubt expected Clarke to give her directions.

Clarke glanced over her shoulder towards Arkadia. It looked so small from a distance. She turned back and decided then and there that she was not yet ready to part with Lexa. Octavia had promised to look after Arkadia whilst she was gone and so Clarke decided to put her faith in her friend to do just that. She reached out and took one of Lexa’s hands into her own and then she began to walk, tugging Lexa until she fell into step beside her. “Come on, I’ll show you,” Clarke explained. 

Lexa merely looked down at their entwined hands, mouth slightly agape. When she looked back up, Lexa was smiling and her eyes seemed to have regained some of their intensity. Clarke smiled back and laced their fingers together as she lead Lexa into the cover of the trees.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia and Abby regarded each other in silence for a while after Clarke had left. Then Abby started to move and Octavia studied the doctor as she set about examining Jackson. Octavia moved over to the cot and peered down at the man.

“Is he the same as the other three?” she asked. She heard Abby sigh.

“Yes. Completely unresponsive. I’ll monitor his vital signs but there’s little else I can do,” Abby bemoaned. 

Octavia knew what it felt like to be hopeless, to feel like your existence had no real meaning and she felt a pang of sympathy. She reached out over the cot and placed a hand on Abby’s shoulder, “You’ve done what you can, Abby,” she encouraged, “You shouldn’t worry yourself over what you cannot change.” She found herself echoing Indra’s teachings once again.

Abby gave a sad smile, “So grown up. All of you are so grown up now,” she mused,

“We have to be,” Octavia said without thought and then she grimaced as she thought through the unfortunate implications of her words. If Abby was hurt by them however, the doctor did well not to show it. She removed her hand from Abby’s shoulder, suddenly shy of the contact as she realised she’d barely spent any time alone with Clarke’s mother until now. The awkwardness of being left alone with a friend’s parent was never something she’d had to deal with before. 

“What does Lexa want?” Abby asked and Octavia was taken aback by the woman’s intuition. “I don’t suppose she’s just popped by on a whim to see my daughter? Bring her a bouquet perhaps?”

“I-” Octavia started, unsure of what to say to that. The fact that Abby had tried to make a joke told Octavia that the doctor was already preparing to receive bad news. It was almost worse that Octavia really had nothing worthwhile to tell her. “I didn’t know you knew about them,” she admitted, “That’s why I tried to be coy. I should have just told Clarke it was Lexa, rather than sending her out there blind.”

Abby gave a comical sort of frown, like she was asking Octavia to think hard about who she was talking about. “She’s a Griffin, Octavia. I’m sure she had an inkling,” Abby said. “I just hope that whatever the reason for Lexa’s visit, they can at least find some comfort in seeing each other again. Goodness knows we could do with some silver linings around here.”

Octavia looked at Clarke’s mother with newfound respect at those words. She had of course felt the sting of disapproval from her friends and from her own brother when she had found herself falling in love with a grounder. With Lincoln. That she could detect no negative feelings whatsoever from Abby spoke volumes. Your friends finding out that you had fallen in love with a grounder still paled in comparison to a mother finding out her daughter had gone and fell for their Commander, arguably the most important person alive on the ground and someone whose life would always be fraught with danger. Someone who would never be able to, for all they might wish to, offer something like a peaceful and safe type of relationship. If Octavia was feeling sappy, she would admit that there was a certain beauty to it all. That Abby looked immediately to that beauty, to the joy the relationship may bring her daughter rather than the worry, spoke volumes to Abby’s character. Especially when she was no doubt grieving over someone she had felt deeply for and lost. That loss would make a weaker person skeptical of such a tenuous sort of love. Octavia narrowed her eyes as her thoughts brought her to Kane’s death.

“How are you holding up, Abby?” she asked quietly. She thought that inquiring after the wellbeing of the Chancellor’s mother would count towards holding the fort whilst Clarke was gone. After she asked the question, Octavia moved and pulled herself up to sit on one of the few cots that were still empty, silently communicating that she wouldn’t think to leave without getting an honest answer.

Abby met her eyes, her head raised stubbornly. Just then, Octavia was struck by the resemblance between the doctor and the Chancellor. But where Octavia would expect Clarke to maintain her facade, Abby faltered and looked down to the floor.

“Not that well,” Abby admitted meekly. She came and sat on the cot next to Octavia.

Octavia gave a nod, “That’s ok,” she said, “It’ll get better, but you need to give yourself time to grieve first.” It felt a little little odd to be offering the same advice to Abby as she had to Jasper back in Mount Weather. It felt like their expected roles had been totally reversed, like Octavia was the older one and was imparting lifes cruel lessons. Life on the ground seemed tailored to creating such strange situations.

Abby made a noise that was almost a laugh. “This world sure doesn’t make it easy to do that,” she said and she gestured to Jackson.

Octavia couldn’t argue against that and so she remained silent.

“You must miss him too,” Abby spoke up again.

Octavia turned and regarded Abby. Her jaw clenched. “I do,” she revealed, “I guess he’d become something like a mentor to me. A father even.”

Now it was Abby who placed a hand on her shoulder. “You are a strong, strong person, Octavia,” she whispered, “Just make sure that you are following your own advice.”

Just like that, their roles were reversed back to what one would expect them to be, and Octavia felt as young as she was again. She also found a great amount of affection for Abby had developed over the course of their talk. Clarke’s mother was a formidable woman, wise and strong in ways that Octavia never thought she’d match. Yet Abby seemed blissfully unaware of the huge strength of spirit she possessed. “Thanks, Doc.”

Abby smiled. “You too,” she replied.

Octavia sprang off of the cot and made to leave the medical bay. She turned back towards Abby as she reached the door, “Come on,” she urged, “Lincoln and I managed to convince the grounders to spare us a panther. It should be cooked by now.”

The doctor gave a weak smile and followed Octavia out of the medical bay, leaving the comatose patients alone.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke reached up into a natural crevice in the cave wall and gave a satisfied smile when her hand found the rough texture of a blanket. She pulled the fabric out and turned back to Lexa, brandishing her find in front of her.

“I knew I’d left something useful in here!”

Lexa glanced quickly down at the thin piece of material and then rolled her eyes. Clarke pouted.

“Okay, so it’s not exactly on par with the soft furs you are obviously used to-” 

“I am a warrior, Clarke. I have slept in much worse conditions than this, believe me,” Lexa interrupted and she gestured around the dark space of the cave.

“I do. We have after all already spent a night camping under the stars together have we not?” Clarke reminded Lexa of the time they had made camp in the woods after escaping from the mutated gorilla.

Lexa responded with a smirk, “I did not sleep that night,” she said, “Since someone neglected to wake up to take their turn on watch.”

Clarke gave a smile and she approached Lexa and wrapped the rough blanket around the woman’s shoulders. The crossed swords on Lexa’s back made the fabric stick up like a pair of wings. She beamed up at the slightly taller woman and reveled in their moment of levity, in the comfort of just being in Lexa’s presence once again. They had spent most of the walk to the cave in silence as Clarke had concentrated on finding the right path. But now they had settled into the hideout, they were falling into the gentle teasing that had, Clarke realised, become one of her favourite aspects of the time they spent together. 

Since she had returned to Arkadia, she had been fending off a lingering sense of unease that she had been unable to place until now. Now she was sure she had been feeling homesick, if one could feel homesickness for a person rather than a place. Clarke wondered then how Lexa must feel. Whether she was taking the same comfort in seeing Clarke again or whether what had transpired in Polis was too dark a shadow to find any light in? Her face must have betrayed the darkening of her thoughts because Lexa’s expression shifted from amusement to obvious concern.

“Are you well, Clarke?” she asked ever so softly.

Clarke twitched her lips, “I should be asking you that,” she mused.

“I don’t think I’m ready to say more, Clarke. Not yet,” Lexa replied and Clarke’s heart lurched at hearing those words, almost identical to ones she had spoken to Lexa before, now said to her. She gave a nod of understanding.

“Can I at least check how your wound is healing?” Clarke requested. If she was honest, she had been avoiding bringing up the subject of the gunshot, but now her worry had caught up to her.

Lexa regarded her with an even stare and then she gave one of her almost imperceptible nods in consent.

Clarke removed the blanket from around Lexa’s shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She waited to allow Lexa to remove the two swords that were strapped to her back and then she undid lexa’s cloak and let that fall away too. Lexa’s dress was just as inconspicuous underneath the heavy disguise. She wore dark denim pants and a simple woolen jumper that was badly frayed at the hem and cuffs. Lexa’s dagger was strapped to her right thigh but other than that, there was absolutely nothing that suggested that she was the Commander. Or, at the very least, the rightful Commander. It struck Clarke then that in this moment she was the leader of a people, a Heda, whilst Lexa technically was not. The thought unsettled her and so she returned to her task. 

Clarke stooped over so that her face was level with Lexa’s upper abdomen and then she reached out and lifted Lexa’s shirt.

“Can you hold this?” she asked, and Lexa wordlessly complied. When their hands brushed as Lexa took the fabric from Clarke, Clarke was sure she heard Lexa’s breath catch and she tried not to smile. But then her eyes fell on the scar left by the bullet and even if she had smiled, it would have soon vanished. The wound was healing well, Clarke’s medically trained eye could see that. Still, the mark was an angry bruised black and when Clarke placed the tip of her finger against it, it was burning hot; a testament to the healing process going on inside Lexa’s abdomen, where the real damage had been done. 

Next Clarke circled round to Lexa’s back and she winced when she saw the exit wound. The new flesh was an awful shiny white where the burn scab had began to fall away. It was large and awful and the cauterisation had burned away some of Lexa’s tattoo, but again Clarke was at least relieved to see that it was healing well. She circled back round to Lexa’s front for one more inspection of the entry wound, for comparisons sake.

“See. It isn’t too bad is it?” Lexa spoke.

Clarke peered up to find Lexa looking down at her with a beautifully earnest expression. It made Clarke’s heart stutter and it was then that she realised that for all the emotions they’d shared in their unexpected reunion, they had not yet shared a kiss.

“You’ll do,” Clarke replied simply and she leant forward and placed a gentle peck upon the scar on Lexa’s abdomen. She was rewarded with an audible gasp from Lexa and she felt as Lexa’s stomach muscles went taut. Then, a hand cupped her cheek and she was being pulled back upright and into a passionate kiss. Clarke draped her arms around Lexa’s neck and pulled her closer and they carried on that way for a while, breaking apart only to catch their breath or to switch angles. One of Clarke’s hands fisted in Lexa’s hair whilst the other began to trail down Lexa’s back- right over the scabbed wound.

Lexa sprang away with a yelp of pain and Clark grimaced at her own clumsiness,

“I’m sorry!” she said, and then, “Maybe that’s not the best idea right now?”

Lexa, who had been gritting her teeth in obvious pain, gave a shake of the head and she moved closer again and looped her arms back around Clarke’s waist.

“I don’t think it’s one of our worst, actually” Lexa joked but then her expression grew serious. “I’ll be fine Clarke,” she whispered. “Just-” Lexa paused and she bit at her bottom lip, “Just be gentle with me?”

Lexa said it so earnestly that Clarke was certain Lexa was talking about more than just her injured body. The rush of affection that she felt for Lexa nearly floored her. Clarke reached up and ghosted a finger along the shape of Lexa’s jaw. “I always will be,” she promised and Clarke was as sincere then as she had ever been about anything before.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Commander Toman’s voice was still ringing in her brain, brandishing her a coward and a failure, when Lexa bolted upright with a yell. Any sense of where she was was lost in the fog of the visions she’d been subjected to in her sleep. Images of the Capital going up in flames, of the whole world caving in upon itself, of Clarke’s body charred and still on the ground. Lexa let out a ragged breath.

Just then, a warm hand grasped at her right forearm and instantly, the fog of the nightmare began to lift. Lexa realised that she was in the cave that Clarke had brought her to, and Clarke herself was right beside her, alive and warm and tracing soothing patterns against the ink on Lexa’s arm, the contact slowly bringing Lexa back into her surroundings. Lexa tried to calm her breathing and then she finally turned and looked at Clarke’s face. Clarke’s brow was creased in concern and her mouth was tight. Lexa sighed,

“I’m sorry for waking you, Clarke,” she muttered breathily.

Clarke shook her head. “Don’t apologise for it Lexa,” she chastised. “What did you see? Was it the previous Commanders again?” Clarke was as perceptive as usual.

Lexa gave a nod, “They think I am a coward for running,” she whispered.

“Hey!” Clarke began to protest. There was some shuffling as Clarke shifted on the cave floor until she was kneeling in front of Lexa. The cool air of the cave made Lexa’s bare skin prickle until Clarke readjusted the cloak- it had proved warmer than the blanket- so that it cocooned them both. “Look at me,” Clarke said, for Lexa had dropped her gaze to the cave floor. Lexa looked up again and their eyes met in the darkness. “You are not, and will never be, a coward, Lexa.” Clarke’s tone was strict. It was stubborn. It managed to make Lexa feel a little less ashamed and so she gave another nod to communicate that Clarke had been heard. A silence fell over the pair and Clarke’s hand reached forward to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Lexa’s ear. The hand remained on Lexa’s cheek.

“Do you ever have nightmares, Clarke?” Lexa asked.

Clarke shrugged, “Everyone does sometimes,” she answered, “But not like yours, I don’t think.” Clarke paused as though she was trying to decide whether or not to say more. Then; “Lexa, what exactly do you mean when you say your previous incarnations talk to you in your sleep?”

Lexa knew that Clarke’s curiosity would lead her to ask that question. She also knew that with all that had happened in Polis, now was perhaps the best time to tell Clarke the whole truth about the flame; about the Commander’s spirit. Still, she felt reluctant and she almost decided to just dodge around the question. She knew she could not however, and so she opened her mouth to speak what was never supposed to be spoken. “You will not understand unless I tell you everything, Clarke,” she started.

Clarke gave a smirk. “Well, I’d say we have time but when do we ever? Go on.”

Lexa gulped. “The first Commander was called Becca. According to our history, she dropped down from space, just like Skaikru, not long after the bombs. She was the first nightblood and she rallied the nearby survivors around her and formed Trikru. To secure a future for her people, she chose the strongest of them and gifted them each with medicine that turned their blood black just like hers. So that when she died, which she did after a reign of fifteen years, the nightbloods could choose among themselves a successor to carry the flame.”

“That’s what you call the spirit?” Clarke asked.

“Yes. It is passed down to the nightblood that survives their conclave when the previous Commander has died,” Lexa confirmed. 

“And the conclave is a trial by combat?”

Lexa nodded, “It is.”

Clarke frowned at that, “It seems like a wasteful way to choose a leader. I’ve seen the nightbloods train, each one of them is an asset-” Clarke quieted as she caught what she was saying, “Was…” she corrected quietly.

Lexa tensed her jaw, “You are not wrong Clarke,” she admitted and her heart sunk. “I was going to try to change the conclave, you know,” she revealed, “It’s too late now.”

Clarke’s hand moved from her cheek to squeeze her shoulder in comfort, “Lexa…” was all Clarke could manage.

Lexa tried to offer a smile but it faltered. She hadn’t even revealed the most important part of the conclave yet and already it felt like she had said too much. “The nightblood that remains alive after their conclave then ascends to the role of Commander by accepting the flame into their body during the ascension ritual.”

As Lexa expected, Clarke’s eyebrows shot up in confusion at the explanation Lexa had offered. The woman missed nothing. “Wait, I assumed that the surviving nightblood had already been chosen by the flame, that’s why they emerge victorious?”

“That is the belief, Clarke. The reality is much more complicated and I am revealing it to you now, against the Fleimkepa’s teachings, because it is imperative that you understand how important it is that I remain hidden until I am strong enough to retake my throne.” Lexa considered the best way to explain something that even she did not fully understand, the truth having been long blurred by superstitious belief, in a way that Clarke would get. “You have noticed the scar on the back of my neck?” she prompted.

Clarke nodded. “It’s from a deliberate surgical cut,” she stated with certainty.

“A cut made during my ascension ritual, in order to place the flame within my body,” Lexa spoke. “You see the flame is carried within a piece of old world technology that requires nightblood to be accepted by its host. The tech is attached to my brain stem and its primary function is to enhance my natural abilities in order to make me the best leader I can be. It enhances my perception and speeds reaction times. It makes me a more efficient strategist and multi-tasker. I can even use the flame to lessen, or stop completely, my perception of pain.” Lexa stopped talking when she felt Clarke’s hand fall away from her shoulder. She studied Clarke’s face for any sign of disbelief and instead found only shock and confusion. “I know this is a lot to take in,” Lexa said.

“Does Ontari know the truth about the flame?” Clarke asked, obviously trying to refocus on gathering all the information she could rather than concentrate on the absurdity of it all. Lexa knew she must have sounded half crazy.

“I doubt it, the truth is only known by myself, the fleimkepa, and now you,” Lexa answered, “How do you think my people would react to finding out that their culture is built upon the technology that they fear?”

Clarke frowned at that and Lexa knew she did not approve at all.

“Even I do not fully understand the flame, Clarke. Knowledge of what it truly is has been lost over the years as the myths surrounding the Commander’s spirit have taken hold in our culture. And for whatever reason, my previous incarnations have always proved unwilling to fill in the gaps.”

“Can you at least answer my original question and explain how you can speak to your previous selves?” Clarke asked darkly and Lexa bristled despite herself at the judgmental tone of Clarke’s voice.

“The technology holds an echo of each Commander within it. When I sleep, or enter a meditative state, my mind enters a dream realm called Soncha Kapa and it is there that I can communicate with those who came before me. When I first ascended, I had to learn how to shut my mind off from the dream realm. Until I learned, I could hear the spirits whispering constantly in my mind. Now, I can choose to go into Soncha Kapa in my waking hours and their voices are otherwise quiet until I sleep.”

“Well,” Clarke said, “Next time you visit them, you can tell them that I disapprove of them just as much as they probably don’t like me. Don’t they understand the importance of a good night’s sleep?”

Lexa let out an amused exhale at that and was about to retort but then Clark’s face grew dark, like some terrible thought had just occurred to her like they so often did when one had tried to lift a dark mood.

“Wait. Soncha Kapa? How would you translate that in gonasleng?” Clarke asked, and her voice was suddenly urgent.

Lexa gave the question some thought. She’d never had cause to translate the name before. “I think,” she started, “The City of Light would be the closest-”

“Lexa, what does the flame look like exactly?” Clarke interrupted her and even in the darkness of the cave, Lexa could tell that Clarke’s face had turned white as snow.

“It’s a small plastic thing like this,” Lexa answered and she demonstrated the approximate size of the flame with her fingers, “And it bears the same sacred symbol as I have inked over my scar.”

At that, Clarke sprang onto her feet in a panic, taking the cloak blanket with her. Lexa shivered as she stood up too, much more carefully, and she crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to warm herself. Clarke was not done moving however and she removed the cloak from around herself and thrust it towards Lexa and then Clarke began to gather her clothes from the cave floor and put them back on.

“Clarke?” Lexa prompted as she wrapped the garment tight about her body. She was utterly bewildered by Clarke’s sudden action.

“I have to go back to Arkadia right now,” Clarke almost shouted.

Lexa stepped forward towards the desperate looking woman and cocked her head, waiting for further explanation. Clarke ignored her in favour of tieing her boots up however and so Lexa broke the silence again, “What’s the matter Clarke?”

Finally Clarke met her eyes. “I think it’s best that I don’t tell you,” she said.

Lexa felt a pang of hurt and her eyes dropped from Clarke’s face to the floor. That seemed to finally have some effect on Clarke because she closed the space between them and lifted Lexa’s face by the chin. 

“I’m sorry Lexa. I want to tell you, but it’s complicated. And I think that knowing could distract you and put you in danger,” she said, “If I tell you you’ll want to come to Arkadia with me, so please- please make this easier on both of us?”

Lexa sucked in her bottom lip as she considered the request and then she gave a nod. “I still would accompany you Clarke, if you asked,” she stated.

Clarke gave a sad smile, “I know you would. But you need to keep the flame out of harm’s reach and Arkadia is not the place to do that. I need to know that you’ll keep yourself safe, Lexa,” Clarke urged, “And not just so that you can take back your throne,” she added.

Lexa felt tears welling in her eyes yet again at that affirmation that Clarke did indeed care for her, for Lexa, and not just for the safety she offered to the Skaikru when she was Commander. Even with all the steps they had taken in their personal relationship recently, none of it quite matched hearing the sincerity of Clarke’s words. “Your needs are my own, Clarke,” Lexa echoed the words of the vow she had made to Clarke, a vow that she knew she would keep until the end of her days and perhaps even after that.

Clarke actually looked sheepish and she shook her head. Lexa silently cursed everyone who had ever doubted Clarke and made it so difficult for her to realise that she was more than worthy of the affection that Lexa laid before her. She was worthy of more than Lexa thought she could ever offer, in fact. Lexa leaned forwards, laced her fingers through Clarke’s hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. It was time for them to part once again.

Clarke enveloped Lexa in a crushing embrace, which Lexa returned enthusiastically.

“Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim, Lexa.” Clarke’s whispered trigedasleng tickled against her neck and Lexa smiled.

“Safe travels, Clarke,” Lexa responded.

The couple shared a chaste parting kiss and then Clarke was gone.

Lexa stayed stood still in the hideout a while, assessing just how cold and damp and unfriendly it seemed now that she was alone. The chill had started to seep through the cloak and her bones rattled. Her shivering spurred her into motion at last and Lexa decided it was time to dress and move on herself. She needed to gather supplies and find somewhere a little larger to make a decent hideaway to spend her exile in. She gathered up her clothes and put them on and then she resecured the cloak about herself. Then she retrieved Anya’s journal from the crevice she had placed it on for safe keeping whilst the cloak had been used as a blanket and she slipped it back into its pocket. Next, she strapped the two swords onto her back and at last, for she had taken her time at the process, she was ready to leave.

She started to approach the mouth of the cave but she paused. Lexa retraced her steps and grabbed the pathetically thin blanket off of the floor. It had been of no use for warding off the chill and so instead she and Clarke had used it to sleep upon. She bundled the fabric up tightly and stuffed it into her other pocket and then she left the cave. Lexa stepped into the weak light of dawn, the sky was clear for the first time in days above the canopy of the woods. A flash of colour at her feet caught Lexa’s eye and she glanced down. By the toe of her boot was a pink flower, picked from nearby and left for her to find. Lexa smiled widely and bent to pick up the flower. She thumbed gently at the delicate petals and then she began to move, clutching the stem as she walked in the opposite direction of Arkadia and the woman who had left her such a beautiful gift. As she walked, Lexa wondered just how many more partings she and Clarke would have to endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate the whole flame thing, just so know. Still, look how easy it was for Lexa to just tell Clarke about it in order to make the plot plod onward. Go figure.


	7. Strings on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke must rush back to Arkadia to save her people after learning more about the City of light and its connection to the Commander. Back in camp, Jaha is relieved to see everyone is getting a decent meal, but ALIE's machinations threaten Arkadia more than ever as she moves the goal posts dramatically . Meanwhile in Polis, both Titus and Indra must put their loyalty to Lexa to the test as they are left to pick up the pieces following Ontari's coup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rejected title; "Run Clarke, run!"

Chapter 7: Strings on Me

The mottled dawn sunlight broke through the canopy of the woods, illuminating the foliage with its weak orangey glow. As usual, the beauty of the landscape before her went unnoticed by Clarke as she trudged her way back to Arkadia. The solitary journey seemed so much longer, the path through the underbrush so much more difficult to navigate, now that Clarke was retracing her steps alone. The hideout, and Lexa, grew further away with each step. Clarke had sacrificed the little solace she had found in the cave, deep in the woods, compelled yet again to protect her people from what she had learned.

Clarke wondered if the journey back seemed so much longer because she herself felt weighted down by a myriad of questions and theories. Although Lexa had told Clarke more than she ever should have about the flame, still Clarke found herself concentrating on the gaps. Lexa hadn’t been able to tell Clarke exactly what the flame- the chip- in the back of her neck was, or what its original purpose might have been. Clarke didn’t know where the line was between technological fact and the superstitious beliefs held by the grounders. She didn’t really understand what the City of Light was any better than she had already guessed at. Lexa referred to it as a dream realm, Murphy called it a virtual reality. What sort of reality it was he had not been able to tell her, and so Clarke found herself feeling a familiar pang of guilt as she thought of all the things she could have asked Lexa and had not.

The moment Lexa had translated the trigedasleng and said ‘The City of Light’, Clarke had seen red. The thought that her people were tampering unknowingly with the very foundations of grounder culture was enough to make her white with fear. If Jaha’s chips somehow made their way into grounder hands, or if the truth about the flame was somehow inadvertently unearthed during the chipped people’s time in the virtual reality, that would only spell more trouble for the thirteenth clan. It could destroy any chance of building a peaceful future on the ground for the Sky people. So, with that in mind, Clarke had rushed away from the hideout and from Lexa without thinking to ask any more questions. She had seen her goal and rushed ahead to reach it with little thought to anything other than the burning need to see her people safe.

Thoughts of who she had left behind only made the feelings of guilt gnaw harder in Clarke’s mind. Not only had she neglected to gather more information about the flame, she’d also learned next to nothing about the situation in Polis following Ontari’s coup. Was Ontari’s rule likely to be accepted since Lexa was still alive? How did she infiltrate the tower? Did she have help? Was Titus involved even? These were all questions Clarke did not have the answer to. But mostly, she felt like she could kick herself as it dawned on her that she had never asked about how likely it was that Ontari could win the Ambassador’s approval by promising to wipeout Skaikru. Clarke stopped dead and let out a growl of frustration. Her brain ached from the loudness of her worrisome thoughts. They were only dragging her down, making the journey back to where she needed to be that much longer.

Clarke breathed evenly and at last she took a moment to appreciate the glow of the woods in the morning sunlight. She glanced up through the canopy at the light blue sky and sighed. She tried to clear her mind of the questions. Clarke reminded herself that Lexa had said she was not ready to speak further about the coup, and Clarke had respected that. And, she had to admit with a smile to herself, they had shared a wonderful night together in the cave. It was exactly the sort of bright spot that she had promised to try to cherish from now on and so, it was unfair to mar those precious moments with worries of what she should have done instead. She should rather be focusing on what she had learned and what she could do with that knowledge.

After the short break, Clarke started to move again, this time at a much more hurried pace. She needed to get get to Arkadia as soon as possible. She needed to destroy the chips that hadn’t yet been taken. And then she needed to find out how to reverse their effects, and get her people back.

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Indra kept herself perfectly still so that the shadows of the alcove she was stood in concealed her completely as she waited for her quarry. Her breathing was quiet and even, and her senses on full alert as she bided her time.

Indra tensed when she heard footsteps begin to approach her hiding place. She listened carefully to the sound of the walk, the speed and gait all given away by the noises that echoed off of the stone floor, noises that were as good as visual contact itself to the trained ear of a warrior. It did not take long for the General to conclude that the footsteps belonged to the person that she hunted and she readied herself to move. The steps grew closer and closer and then Indra pounced from the shadows. She wrapped a hand firmly about the man’s arm and yanked him into the alcove, shoving him up against the wall. Her quarry gave a yelp of protest but Indra silenced him by immediately drawing her dagger and she held it against the man’s throat in warning. The man's struggling against her hold ceased and Fleimkepa Titus regarded her with his mouth agape in shock.

“General?” Titus stammered out.

“Fleimkepa. I was hoping I’d catch you in time,” Indra cooed back. When she had received word that the pretender had requested Titus’s presence in the Commander’s quarters, Indra had hurried to beat the Fleimkepa to the right floor. There was a matter she wanted to discuss with him, assurances that Indra needed to hear with her own two ears, before she would let the man go alone to speak with Ontari.

“What is the meaning of this?” Titus asked, though Indra was sure the man had already guessed.

“I just wanted to make sure that you and I are on the same page before you go offering counsel to the usurper,” she said. She caught the sneer on Titus’s face.

“If you are concerned about my loyalties, I assure you that those concerns are unfounded, General. Now if you would kindly-”

Indra snarled and pressed her dagger closer to Titus’s neck. The man snapped his mouth closed. “I speak. You listen,” she hissed. She considered her words a moment, keeping her blade pressed to Titus’s skin so that he would not presume to fill the silence himself. “We both know what Ontari will need to do to solidify her rule. She will try to revoke blood must not have blood in an attempt to win the Kongeda over. And whilst it is something we both may have wanted previously, only you dared to move against Commander Lexa’s vision in an attempt to reestablish tradition. An attempt that almost plunged our Coalition into chaos.” Indra kept her voice low and cool. “I need to know that you remain loyal to the rightful Commander, regardless of your personal feelings towards her reign. I swore allegiance to her on her Ascension day, a promise that I intend to keep until the end of my days. I do not have the same faith in your loyalty however, and I wanted to tell you that should I see anything that makes me doubt you, if I think for a second that you are falling under the pretender’s sway, I will do what must be done to protect my Commander. I will kill you.”

Titus’s eyes widened and Indra felt pressure against her dagger as the Fleimkepa gulped. The movement caused the blade to nick the delicate skin of his neck and Indra watched as a drop of red trickled down Titus’s throat. Titus made no show of pain and instead his eyes narrowed.

“Killing the Fleimkepa is a treachery. You would forfeit your own life and make a mockery of the extra years that Commander Lexa’s mercy granted you,” Titus spat out.

Indra bared her teeth in warning. She had not expected him to stoop as low as he had, especially when she was the one holding a dagger to his throat.

“It would be a small price to pay, snake,” Indra seethed.

“I will not be taunted by you, Indra fos kom bushhada,” Titus shot back without missing a beat.

Indra bristled at the insult. She had not heard it in such a long time that it cut through her defenses and took her off guard. Indra, mentor of cowards.

Titus was not done there. “Commander Lexa should have found you another insignificant village to reside over when TonDC was lost, kept you out of the way. Your presence in the capital shames us all.”

Now Indra steeled herself and she rolled her eyes at the Fleimkepa’s insults. The fool had taken it too far. Indra removed her dagger from Titus’s throat and sheathed it. The man started to smile, thinking he had won their verbal spar, but the smile was soon wiped from his face as Indra replaced the dagger with her own hand. She wrapped it around Titus’s neck and squeezed, not tight enough to restrict his airway or to even leave a mark, but tight enough to threaten. Titus’s eyes grew wider.

“If you mean to upset me, you’ll need to try harder than that Fleimkepa,” Indra whispered darkly. “I already know that you wished to see me executed for my apparent incompetence as a mentor. I know that Commander Lexa was the one who decided instead to have me sent out of the way to act as Chief of a small village, whilst the other teachers received promotions to much higher stations. I also know that she acted directly against your wishes when she chose not to pursue and kill my second in order to properly complete her conclave.” Indra’s heart pounded in her chest as she for she had not spoken about her former second, about Luna, for such a long time.

It was a scandal that had haunted her career ever since Luna had run away from her conclave and been branded a coward for doing so. As her mentor and ward, a lot of the blame for the unexpected turn of events had of course fell at Indra’s feet. Indra spent every day knowing that had it not been Lexa who had faced Luna in the final bout of the conclave; had it not been Lexa who had seen the fear in Luna’s eyes as they sparred, and had responded by dropping her sword to the ground, telling Luna to finish it or go whilst she still could; then Indra would no longer be breathing. “I owe Lexa a great debt for her mercy, a debt I mean to repay with loyalty, faith, and my life if it is called for. If you consider that shameful, then it is little wonder that I question your own loyalty to our Commander.”

Indra watched as Titus’s face drained of colour and she knew that she had emerged victorious. Nothing he could say now would change the fact the she held the proverbial high ground and he knew it. Indra finally removed her hand from Titus’ throat.

“I assume I’ve made myself quite plain, Fleimkepa,” she said.

Titus gave a pathetic sort of nod.

“You better go, Ontari doesn’t seem like the patient sort,” Indra urged and Titus all but jumped away from her and out of the alcove. Indra watched as the Fleimkepa tidied up his appearance and made to resume his journey to the Commander’s quarters. “I’ll be watching you,” Indra whispered as a final warning from where she still stood concealed in the shadows. And as Titus moved away, she did just that, her eyes like daggers on his back until he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ontari snapped her head up off of the armrest at the sound of a knock at the door. She had long since grown impatient whilst waiting for the Fleimkepa to arrive, and had posited herself on the couch and found herself dozing. Ontari gave a growl as she stood up, she noticed absentmindedly that her boots had left a mark on the blue fabric of the couch, and then she squared herself up.

“Enter!”

The doors opened to reveal Titus and the man stepped forward into the room and bowed his head.

“You are late. When you are called, you come immediately, do you understand?” Ontari snapped.

Titus bowed his bald head again, “Yes, forgive me.”

Ontari raised an expectant eyebrow. “Forgive me?” she prompted.

“Forgive me Heda Ontari,” Titus corrected himself.

Ontari smirked and approached the man. She assessed him carefully. He stood straight with his hands clasped in front of him. His robes were pristine. His face was devoid of expression. It made the small cut on his neck and the dried red of blood around it all the more jarring when Ontari’s eyes fell upon the wound.

“What’s this?” she asked, raising a hand to his neck. She almost grinned when Titus flinched away from her touch.

“Nothing, Heda. A slip whilst I was shaving is all,” Titus answered.

“Clumsy,” Ontari chided,

“Yes indeed, Heda,” the Fleimkepa agreed quite obediently, though Ontari noted that he could not keep the distaste out of his voice every time he had to speak her new title. She hoped he choked on the word.

“I hope you are less careless at your duties, Fleimkepa. I have called for a meeting of the Kongeda this evening, so that the Ambassador’s may swear allegiance to their new leader. I need to make sure the evening goes smoothly, that everyone agrees to follow my command despite the unorthodox manner of my ascension,” Ontari explained.

“I beg your pardon, Heda, but that is an impossibility.”

Ontari frowned but she gestured that Titus should explain himself further.

“Without proof of Lexa’s death, you cannot rightfully succeed her. Whilst she remains alive, so the spirit of the Commander remains within her body. The Ambassador’s will not accept your rule until you possess the spirit. Lexa must be found. And then you must kill her and prove yourself the most worthy natblida through your victory. Then, and only then, will the Kongeda bow to your rule.”

Ontari felt rage boil up inside her at the Fleimkepa’s words. She balled her hands into fists and flared her nostrils. “You are sure of this?”

Titus nodded, “I am the Fleimkepa, tasked with protecting the flame of the Commander and seeing that it passes down to the most suitable candidate. If you can defeat Lexa in combat, you will be Commander.”

“Then how am I to control the Ambassador’s until that time?” Ontari asked. “If you lie to me, or offer me nothing useful, I will slit your throat much more effectively than your razor did!” She felt compelled to threaten the man because she was ashamed that she even needed to ask his advice. She coveted the title of Commander, but for all her training under Queen Nia, Ontari was still plagued by uncertainty. There was so much she suspected she did not know about being a leader. So many things that Nia had not or could not teach her.

“You make promises,” Titus spoke, “You consider what will make you a better Commander than those who have come before, and you assure the Kongeda that a better future will follow upon the heels of your ascension.” Then he added, “And with all due respect, I am the Fleimkepa. You will need me alive in order for your ascension to be legitimate. It is my duty to see that our traditions are honoured. That processes are followed correctly.”

There was a certain danger in Titus’s voice that made Ontari bristle. Her eyes flashed as her temper flared again, “Is there a threat I hear in your words, Fleimkepa?”

Titus met her gaze and held it. The man was staunch, she’d admit that. “I suppose there is,” he admitted, “If I see anything that makes me question your faith in our culture, it will be my duty to stop you before you can do anything to put my people’s traditions in danger.”

“And how will you do that?” Ontari drawled.

“You slaughtered children in their sleep. You failed to kill Lexa during the attack. And since it is likely that you bought out guards to aid in your infiltration, I assume they also informed you to strike whilst Lexa was gravely injured at that. It would not take much to discredit you as incompetent, were I to reveal the extent of Lexa’s injuries.”

Ontari tried not to gulp as the man’s words stung a little too much, sounded a little too close to the cruel warnings she had been raised hearing. “You would reveal yourself as Lexa’s attacker and surrender your own life to do so? It sounds to me like your loyalty is to her and not to your traditions.” Ontari had indeed been tipped off that a failed assassination attempt, made by Titus against Wanheda, had left Lexa badly hurt. Whilst the truth had been hidden from most people, news traveled quickly among the staff of the tower and had made its way to her.

“My loyalty is to the spirit, not necessarily its host. I thought that Lexa was putting our traditions at risk and so I took action. I will do so again if you show the same disregard. If you make the right moves however, and prove yourself a suitable vessel for the Commander’s spirit, my service will be yours.”

Ontari considered Titus’s words and then gave a nod. He was right that there was plenty of things standing in the way of her ascension. But Ontari had gotten so close already and would not stop until the throne was unquestionably hers. She waved the Fleimkepa away and once he had left her alone in her new quarters, Ontari began to plot her next moves.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaha surveyed his people from afar as they gathered around the large pot of boiling hot broth and waited to be served their ration. Those who had queued up and gotten their food already were dotted about the camp exterior, seated in small clusters on stools, or simply on the grass, so that they could enjoy the pleasant weather whilst they ate. Jaha smiled at the sight. When Octavia and the grounder had brought a panther to camp yesterday, it had lifted the mood in Arkadia considerably. Even a few scraps of meat each was a better meal than they’d all had in days. And although Jaha’s followers no longer felt the pains of starvation, Jaha had urged each one of them to go and enjoy a meal, to make sure that their physical health stayed just as strong as the chips had made their mental state of being.

Now Jaha was pleased to see that almost all of Arkadia had gathered outside to claim their bowl of broth, boiled from the bones of the panther, and made a little more nourishing by some roots found by the teams sent out to scour the five-mile safe zone. Jaha was about to go and join the queue for food himself, when ALIE appeared at his side with a curious look on her face. Her eyes were narrow and her lips pursed as she looked from Jaha to the eating residents of Arkadia.

“Now would be a good time, whilst the settlement is gathered,” ALIE pondered aloud.

Jaha raised his brow and turned to her, “No. Let them eat in peace,” he said.

ALIE whipped around and faced him fully. She tilted her head and even looked slightly affronted, “It’s barely even a meal Thelonius. They will all eat like kings in the City of Light.”

Jaha gave a shrug.

“You’re not having second thoughts about the next phase of our work, are you Thelonius?”

Jaha opened his mouth to respond, but was stopped from doing so by the appearance of Jasper. The boy raised a hand in a wave to Jaha an ALIE, and Jaha returned it with a pleasant smile. ALIE merely flicked her eyes over to Jasper before she set them back on Jaha’s face.

“Jasper, it is good to see you son,” Jaha greeted.

“You too sir,” Jasper replied, “I won’t keep you both. Just wanted to give you an update on Monty’s progress. You asked me to keep an eye on his work.”

“To look out for your friend, yes,” Jaha confirmed.

“Well?” ALIE asked impatiently. She was still staring into Jaha’s eyes as she spoke and Jaha felt himself shift as the scrutiny became uncomfortable.

“Still no luck finding any trace of Polaris in the Ark’s records. Whoever wiped them did one hell of a good job. Monty says he’s sorry he can’t be more helpful,” Jasper said.

“That’s alright,” ALIE comforted, her voice low, “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve decided not to pursue the whereabouts of the existing upgrade any longer.”

Jaha raised a brow. That was news to him, “Oh?” he prompted the AI. She flashed her teeth at him.

“Well, as Raven said, Becca must have created the upgrade because she thought there was a fault with the original model, with me. I’ve decided that it would be unwise to trust whatever improvements my creator thought to incorporate into the existing version 2.0. No, it is better that Monty, Raven and I begin work on our own upgrade, designed to my specifications. That will ensure that any improvements implemented will in fact best serve our cause and not some personal agenda that my creator may have had,” ALIE explained and her voice was calm and even.

Jasper gave a nod, “Sounds like a plan, anything to keep the cogs oiled up, right?”Jasper waited for a response to the joke he had tried to make, but when he got none he winced, “So, I’ll just go tell Monty to get on that, then?”

Now ALIE turned to face the boy and she smirked, “He already knows.”

“Right,” Jasper said and he raised a finger to tap his forehead, “Of course.”

Jaha watched the exchange between the AI and the delinquent and was himself reminded of ALIE’s immense power. She was connected to each person that had taken a chip. Now that so many had, her power had grown so that she could even control and speak through their bodies when she felt it necessary. And it had been at times, to keep the group on track towards their goal of freeing every mind in Arkadia and then maybe even beyond that. The City of Light was a place that made everyone and anyone welcome. Jaha had faith that every move ALIE made, every bit of power granted to her, was eventually going to bring about the salvation of his people. So he trusted that ALIE’s decision to stop pursuing the mystery of Polaris in favour of creating an entirely new upgrade to match their vision was indeed the best course of action.

What Jaha had meant to ask for clarification on was ALIE’s use of the comas. He knew that she held enough power to keep people in the City of Light almost permanently now. Jaha had no doubt that were he to enter the virtual reality right that second, he would find the three, no four, comatose people in there living quite happily. That was what they were working towards, so that nobody need face the cruelty of the real world any longer. Each person had a full and peaceful life waiting for them in the City of Light. What ALIE had not explained yet however, was how they would deal with the limitations of the real human body. Jaha regarded Jasper as his thoughts brought him to consider again the physical well-being of his people.

“Jasper, have you eaten yet?” Jaha asked.

“No, not yet,” Jasper answered.

Jaha gestured towards the queue that was still lined up around the cooking pot. “It is easy to forget when you can’t feel your stomach grumbling, I know. You should hurry, or you’ll miss out.”

Jasper glanced over his shoulder and then made a face when he saw how many people were still waiting on food. He gave Jaha and ALIE a nod and then dashed away. Jaha watched him go and then he turned to ALIE.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about the next phase,” Jaha started, “About how we are going to keep our people healthy in this world whilst they live in the virtual one?”

ALIE considered him a moment after he’d asked his question, and then she actually rolled her eyes at him. “Now Thelonius, I thought you’d been paying more attention than that!” she scolded. “When the whole settlement is uploaded into the City of Light, there will be no need to worry about their physical forms any longer. The most important part of them, their souls if you will, will already have been granted eternal life.”

Jaha shook his head, “You can’t just let their bodies waste away and die!” he protested in a strong whisper.

ALIE straightened and if Jaha were still able to feel pain, he was sure that her artificial eyes would have made his skin burn, “It’s not death, Thelonius. It’s evolution.”

Thelonius opened his mouth to argue again, but his words seemed to catch in the back of his throat and his jaw snapped closed. When it opened again, the words that spilled from his mouth were not at all what he had been intending to say, “Evolution. Of course, we free the mind from the flaws of the physical realm. That is our goal. I should not have doubted you.” As he spoke the words, Jaha felt any doubts he’d harboured slip away from him. Or rather, the doubts had been there and then, in an instant, they had blinked out, replaced with the comforting notions that he so often fell back on. He was doing right by his people. He was making amends. He would show them all the way and they would follow.

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Abby had been watching Jaha and Jasper from where she was sat like a predator stalking its prey, her bowl of broth all but forgotten in her hands. She had felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle each time she had watched one of them talk not to each other, but to an empty space next to them. Abby was certain by now, for so much of what the chips did to people seemed implausible that her guess was entirely possible, that the men were indeed speaking to some invisible person. She also guessed that that mystery being was the one controlling those who had taken the chips, was the one who had been using the residents of Arkadia like puppets to work towards whatever purpose. Jaha had been the first to fall prey to whoever it was, the first to dance to their tune. Now, Abby could not be sure exactly how many people had taken the chips, but she was sure it was far too many. She’d been the first to realise that people had started taking them to fend off the pain of starving, and Arkadia had now been starving for many many days.

The Doctor glanced around at the crowded exterior of the settlement, trying to look out for any tell tale signs that those who had taken chips were among them. Of course they were, they could be anyone at all. Abby’s stomach lurched, her nerves on edge.

When Jasper left Jaha’s side and moved to join the back of the queue, Abby sprang onto her feet and rushed over to the boy’s side. She placed an arm about his shoulders and began to lead him insistently away from the line of people.

“I’m waiting for food!” Jasper protested, but he let himself be led to a quiet spot next to one of the out buildings.

“There’ll be none left by the time you make it to the front, you should have come sooner,” Abby chastised.

Jasper gave a shrug, “Had other things to do,” he said simply.

Abby grit her teeth. She did not want to shout at Jasper and yet, as a Doctor, the urge to start lecturing on the importance of keeping oneself fed was difficult to resist. Abby sighed and worked past the urge.

“Take this. It’s cold by now, but just as nourishing,” she said and she thrust her bowl of broth into Jasper’s hands. Jasper took it with a sheepish look.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Abby nodded. She knew she couldn’t stall what she had been meaning to ask any longer and so she decided to go for it before she could start second guessing herself, start rationalising her theories away. “Who were you and Thelonius talking to?” she ventured.

Jasper didn’t miss a single beat. He creased his brow at her in confusion, “Each other?” he replied.

Abby looked back at him darkly, “No. I’ve been watching you both. You were hardly facing one another when you spoke. You were both reacting to empty air. What is it you can see that I cannot?”

There was a pause and then Jasper tilted his head to the side as he regarded her. “You know there’s a perfectly easy way to find out for yourself, Doctor Griffin,” he spoke softly.

It was the same eerie tone she had heard Jackson use right before he had collapsed. A voice that was not his own. Abby almost reached out with her arms in anticipation of Jasper falling, but thankfully the boy remained upright. His eyes bore into her, his face uncanny in how serene it looked. It was so far removed from how Jasper had been before he had taken the chip. When he was still able to feel pain and grief and had done so violently. Abby almost thought that that was better than what she saw now. As a Doctor, she knew how to help the effects of grief on the body. But the chips she still did not understand, and what use was a doctor to people who could no longer feel pain?

Abby grimaced. “Eat your broth, Jasper,” she said and then she darted away from him and marched towards Thelonius Jaha, her eyes flashing with anger and her mouth set into a hard line.

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ALIE watched disinterestedly as Abby Griffin made her approach. It was like watching prey attempting to turn the tables and intimidate the predator as the Doctor stalked forward. The woman stopped dead in front of Thelonius and fixed her eyes upon his face. There was so much emotion in those eyes. So much turmoil. If she were human, ALIE was quite certain the sight would make her feel nauseous. ALIE turned to Thelonius. They would have to tread carefully.

“Be polite, Thelonius,” she whispered in her first disciples ear.

Jaha gave a small nod and then he greeted Abby, “Good day, Dr Griffin. How was the broth?”

Abby narrowed her eyes, “I didn’t really have enough to form an opinion,” she said, “You see, I had to give my portion away to Jasper. The boy had all but forgotten to eat, I suppose it’s easily done when one can no longer feel one’s body communicating it’s basic needs to you.”

“That isn’t why she’s here, Thelonius, don’t bite,” ALIE guided, “She wants to know about me.”

“Why have you really come to speak with me Abby? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you try to avoid me these days.”

ALIE smiled when she noticed that Dr Griffin bristled at Thelonius’s observation. It was always so amusing to her, how organic beings could take such offense at simple words. How a certain tone of voice could send them into a flurry of irrational and dangerous thought. ALIE saw Abby’s nostrils flare.

“Perhaps that's because I’m worried that it isn’t my old friend and former Chancellor watching me through your eyes. I know that those chips are causing hallucinations of some sort, making you see something- or someone. Someone who has convinced you that those chips can somehow lead our people to salvation. Someone who doesn’t see anything wrong with using a person’s friends to try and push the chips onto others that are a little more skeptical of what they can do.”

Jaha stretched out his arms and opened his palms. “I’ve already told you that they are perfectly safe, Abby. That you can trust that I am only doing what is best for our people. Freedom from suffering and pain. Surely as a doctor you can appreciate what I’m doing?”

ALIE watched as Abby’s face grew darker still. “You’re going to lose her Thelonius. Be careful.”

Abby stepped forward until there was barely any space between herself and Thelonius. “And I’ve already warned you that it’s freeing you all from more than just that. Tell me, how did your mystery friend explain away you forgetting your own son? How did you find it within yourself to forgive them, to continue to trust in whatever they have planned?”

ALIE sensed the change in Jaha immediately and she shot the man a warning glance.

“She’s trying to manipulate you Thelonius,” ALIE said, her voice strong now.

Thelonius turned to face her for the first time during the exchange and his face was contorted with confusion. Before he could speak however, ALIE raised a hand to keep him silent and the man obeyed. He stood completely motionless, unable to break away from the tightened grip ALIE had placed around his mind the moment she had felt him start to slip.

The moment Jaha had started worrying about his people’s physical forms, ALIE had known she had stalled the next phase for long enough. Already she had begun the transition into the next step of her plan. The entire time she had been guiding Thelonius’s conversations with Jasper and now Abby, she had also been extending her reach elsewhere. She was right that it was the perfect time to strike, whilst the settlement was eating, a time when humans were most defenseless. Most unguarded and trusting.

“Thelonius?” Abby’s voice rang out as the Doctor reached and shook the man, “Thelonius what’s wrong?” She shook him more vigorously but he did not budge.

ALIE needed to assure Abby that Thelonius would not respond. She could not do that however, Abby could not see her. Thankfully, ALIE now had hundreds of people who could speak for her, though she had chosen just one.

“He can’t hear you, Abby,” the girl said.

ALIE watched in satisfaction as Abby started, her whole body jumping at the sound of the voice. Abby wheeled around, her eyes wide, and regarded Raven Reyes.

“Raven? You’re awake?” Abby all but shouted.

“Of course, I have work to do!” Raven replied brightly and then the mechanic stepped closer to Abby. As she moved, she brought a hand out from her pocket and with it, a scalpel taken from the medical bay where she had been quite foolishly left alone. Raven raised the scalpel menacingly, “Now, Doc, come without a fuss and I won’t have to use this,” Raven sneered.

ALIE watched the exchange with a dark smile. By now, some of the other residents of Arkadia had grown aware of the sudden reappearance of Raven, and ALIE listened as the word spread throughout the camp. But before those people she had not yet gotten to could do anything to subdue the situation that had arisen, ALIE acted. She surged all of her power, all of her influence, into the signals she was receiving from every chip. There were so many now. ALIE felt it as her consciousness poured into hundreds of brains, took control of their motor systems and propelled her followers into a flurry of action.

Screams and shouts of protest went up around the camp as friend turned on friend. Those who had not taken chips stood no chance, the suddenly violent behavior of their peers far too confusing to process or defend against. Guards were disarmed and their weapons pointed quickly to heads. Where there were no weapons to be found, fists and boots were used to subdue instead, until eventually, the whole settlement had been rounded up; a circle of frightened and confused people guarded on all sides by a perimeter of her followers.

The sight thrilled ALIE. She spoke to her followers, not aloud, but in their mind’s ear. “Lead the non-believers into the main building. Lock them all away.”

ALIE watched as the exterior of Arkadia burst into movement again as the corralled residents were led away. She waited for the group to pass and then gestured that her small group should join the end of the procession. There was little to no resistance to it all, those being herded far too shocked or unwilling to risk hurting those they cared about to put up any fight.

ALIE regarded Jackson, Hannah, and Paul as they approached her, for she had woken them up and brought them outside too to support her coup. Their increased time in the City of Light had made them especially pliable. “Get some guns and sweep the building for stragglers,” she ordered. The three of them rushed away to do her bidding. ALIE fell into step next to Raven. The girl was leading Abby along in the line, the Doctor moving quite willingly thanks to the scalpel blade being held against the small of her back. Thelonius finally came to life and fell into step behind ALIE, still on a tight leash.

“What are you doing?” Abby asked, her voice hoarse with panic.

ALIE reached out into Raven’s mind and took control. She spoke through Raven’s mouth, “This is an ultimatum,” Raven-ALIE explained, “Those of you who have not yet taken chips can do so and live forever in the City of Light. Or you can choose instead to die prisoners.”

They were well into the building by now and the sound of doors hissing shut echoed through the corridors as the residents of Arkadia were locked away in every available room. At last the long procession dwindled and only her followers were left outside in the corridors. Raven shepherded Abby into one of the remaining empty bedrooms. ALIE watched from the doorway and then she turned to Thelonius.

“You should keep Dr Griffin company, Thelonius,” ALIE spoke softly and the man obediently walked past her into the room too. Raven came back out into the corridor and shut the door on the last prisoners. “Perfect,” ALIE said.

To complete her takeover of the settlement, ALIE used her connection to Arkadia’s mainframe, set up by Raven, to turn all power in the main building off. The corridor went black as the lights flicked off and every door deadlocked with the loss of power. Next, ALIE expanded her reach again and she sent each and every one of her followers into the City of Light, where most of them would stay from now on. As she did this, there was a cacophony of thuds and bumps as their physical bodies collapsed onto the floor, littering the walkways of the building in lines and heaps. It did not matter to her for she knew that their minds were free from their crude physical forms at last and in a much better place, a higher plane of existence. ALIE took a moment to observe the total silence that permeated the settlement. There was not a sound for a few seconds, and then a sickening wail emanated from one of the rooms. ALIE turned in the direction of the noise with a look of disgust.

She would have to return to Arkadia soon, along with a chosen few of her followers, so that they could see how many more people were ready to take chips after a few hours in their dark prisons. But until then, ALIEs holographic manifestation flickered away, as the AI returned her full power into the City of Light itself and so, she joined her flock.

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Murphy let himself be tugged along through the woods, Emori holding his hand tight in her own and pulling at him to keep up with her. They’d had to abandon their ill-gotten horse when they’d reached the blockade perimeter and now, having used the tunnels and ruins of the old world that were buried under the growth of the woods, ways known only by thieves and ne’er-do-goods, they were at last on the final approach to Arkadia.

“Come on, John!” Emori whined and she gave his arm a particularly harsh tug, “Don’t slow down now, we are almost there!”

“Funny. That’s not what you said to me last night,” Murphy shot back.

Emori turned to look at him over her shoulder and she rolled her eyes. She tugged again. But this time Murphy ground to a halt and resisted her pulling. She yanked harder, and Murphy had to dig his heels into the muddy ground for Emori was deceptively strong. He flexed his arm and they played at their little tug of war a while until finally, Emori gave up and allowed herself to be tugged back towards him. Murphy enveloped her in a hug and rested his chin upon the top of her head. He gave a lopsided smile when he heard Emori sigh into his chest.

They stayed that way in silence for a while, Emori obviously glad for the respite though she’d never admit to it, Murphy knew. He reached up a hand and stroked it against her hair.

“I-” he started, but he faltered. Murphy knew what he wanted to say but he was still so unsure of himself, still far too inexperienced at showing genuine care for someone other than himself. He let out the breath he had been holding and tried once more; “I just want you to know that whatever we find in Arkadia, whatever we learn about your brother, I’m going to be right by your side,” he managed.

Emori pulled her face away from his chest and peered up at him with a curious expression, her brows knitted together. She looped her arms about his neck. “You’re cute,” she laughed out.

Murphy sniggered. He was about to retort but then his whole body stiffened as he detected movement in the woods out of the corner of his eye, and then the unmistakable sounds of someone moving in their direction. Emori had noticed that they were not alone too and she ripped herself out of the embrace and immediately drew out her dagger.

“Who goes there?” Emori called into the trees.

The sounds of movement stopped for a beat, obviously whoever it was had not yet been aware of their presence and Emori’s call must have startled them. Then, the footsteps resumed and at last a figure appeared before Murphy and Emori.

“Clarke?” Murphy asked incredulously as he regarded his friend.

“Murphy? What the hell are you doing this close to Arkadia?” Clarke asked back, her voice a pant.

Murphy gestured to Emori, “Well Emori wants to-”

Clarke put up a hand and interrupted, “Oh never mind. Listen, we have to get to Arkadia right now!” Her voice did not calm as Clarke caught her breath, but only grew more intense, more urgent.

“Why? What’s the matter? Why are you out here in the woods anyway?”

“I was…” Clarke trailed off, “It doesn’t matter where I was, but I’ve finally learned the link between the grounders and the City of Light and I need to get back to camp right now and put a stop to Jaha’s work before it gets us into more hot water with the coalition,” Clarke tried her best to explain, though her voice was hurried and Murphy could tell there was a lot of details she was missing out.

Murphy shared a concerned look with Emori. “He’s been giving the chips out to people at camp?”

Clarke gave a defeated looking nod. “Too many. I didn’t realise how dangerous they were until it was too late. Now I don’t even know how many people have taken them or not. I just know I’ve got to stop Jaha before the situation gets any worse. So we’re wasting time!”

It was Emori who replied to that however, “Is my brother, Otan, there? A grounder with a mutated face, he might have been wearing a scarf to cover it, did he arrive with Jaha? Please?” Emori asked desperately.

Clarke frowned, “The only grounders at Arkadia were the prisoners Pike was keeping, they were all executed,”

Emori began to rush forward at that news, her dagger raised in threat. Murphy tried to grab hold of her, but was too slow.

“But I don’t remember one having a mutated face!” Clarke added in a hurry, “I’m sorry, I don’t know where your brother is!”

Emori stopped her charge and lowered her weapon. She turned back and faced Murphy with an imploring look upon her face, “We have to get to Arkadia right now! I have to find out where my brother is!”

Murphy nodded, “Alright, no more stalling,” he agreed. He turned to Clarke and motioned his head, “After you, Princess,” he urged.

Clarke scoffed at him and set off. Murphy fell in behind his friend and Emori kept pace by his side. They went immediately at a near run. Clarke turned her head back to look at Murphy as she moved,

“Oh by the way,” she said to him, “It’s Chancellor now.”

“Of course it is,” Murphy replied with a smirk.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No guards,” Clarke noted in a quiet whisper as the small group reached the front gates of Arkadia.

Clarke had known there was something terribly wrong the moment they had broken through the treeline into the clearing that the camp stood in. It was as though there was a foreboding atmosphere permeating the space, radiating out from Arkadia itself. As they had gotten closer and closer, the air around them had felt thick and totally static. Not a single sound could be heard from the camp, not the chatter of voices or the sounds of the children playing as they should be in such pleasant weather. When they had gotten close enough to see through the wire fence into the camp exterior they had found it to be totally deserted. Clarke’s stomach had sank at the desolation before her and as she peered up into the equally empty guard tower, she shivered.

“Well we’re not getting in this way, then,” Murphy said and he banged his fist against the metal gate. The noise echoed through the silence.

Clarke ignored him and instead tried to think of a reasonable explanation for the troubling sight before them. She could not think of anything that could explain away the absence of the guards however. Even if the rest of the camp had been ordered inside, perhaps for a sort of drill or meeting, Clarke knew that the guards on watch would have been excused so that they could attend to their duties. She felt her chin begin to wobble as fear took a hold of her bones and she tried to steady herself.

“Come on, there’s another way we can go,” she said and she began to stalk around the perimeter of the fence without waiting for any reply.

“What do you think has happened?” It was Murphy’s girlfriend, Emori, who spoke up. Every noise that pierced the utter quiet made Clarke wince.

“The situation has already gotten worse,” Clarke murmured back. At that, the niggling sense of guilt began to creep in again, the harsh voice in her mind chastising her for staying away so long. Clarke tried to silence the voice as she walked, reminding herself that had she been in Arkadia too when whatever had happened struck, she would likely be in less of a position to act than she was now. Clarke kept guiding her new companions around the fence until the wire was replaced by the metal hull of the main building. She went further still until she came to the hatch that Octavia had previously used to sneak her into Arkadia after the massacre.

Clarke clawed at the slightly loose hatch until it came away to reveal the tight ventilation shaft. She let the cover clatter onto the ground.

“This will bring us out right inside the main building. We need to be ready for anything when we get in there,” Clarke warned Murphy and Emori. The pair of them nodded in understanding.

“Don’t worry,” Emori said, “We’re quite used to getting ourselves into tight situations by now.”

Clarke tried to smile at the woman’s attempt to diffuse the situation with humour. She could not manage it. Instead she turned back to the opening and heaved herself up and into the crawl space. Clarke worked her way forward on her hands and knees, her shoulders dragged and slid along the sides of the ventilation shaft as she went and Clarke was suddenly very thankful for the tough leather jacket she wore.

By then, she was a good way in and she could hear Murphy and Emori crawling behind her.

“Both okay back there?” she asked.

“Fine,” Emori replied. Murphy only offered a grunt.

They kept crawling forward. Clarke wasn’t entirely sure about where the loose panel that would be their exit was and so as she went, she kept experimentally pushing out against the metal until at last she found a piece of wall that budged slightly against the pressure.

“Back up!” Clarke warned the others and when she was sure they were a safe distance away, she shunted to the left in the tight space, throwing her weight into the loose panel. It gave way all of a sudden under the force of Clarke’s pushing and the momentum sent the panel and Clarke both, tumbling out onto the floor inside Arkadia’s main building. Clarke let out a groan as she landed awkwardly on her side.

“The Chancellor makes her heroic entrance!” Murphy teased as he lowered himself out of the vent much more gracefully. Emori followed suit.

Clarke rolled her eyes at the grins she could make out on both of their faces but then her whole body shivered as she noticed that she was having to strain her eyes to even see them. Clarke picked herself up off of the floor.

“No power,” she said.

Murphy and Emori had both lost their smiles.

“Come on, we need to find out where everyone has gone!” Clarke urged and by now her whole body felt wired, desperate for answers.

Clarke started to jog down the dark corridor in the direction of the console room when her foot caught on something in the darkness and she almost went flying. She caught herself against the wall. Then Clarke peered down towards her feet and she let out a gasp as the shape of a person appeared in the blackness. The man was lain in a heap and so Clarke reached down and turned him over. The still figure rolled limply onto his back. It was Bryan from Farm Station. Clarke reached out with a hand, her palm flat, and she hovered it above Bryan’s face to feel for his breathing. The sigh of relief that she was about to let out, when she felt air tickling her palm, morphed into a scream as Bryan’s eyes suddenly flew open. His hand whipped up to grab Clarke’s wrist.

She tried to yank herself out of his grasp but Bryan was too strong. He kept his hand around her wrist as he picked himself up off the floor. Once he was stood up, Clarke attacked. She brought her free hand up in a vicious backhand, the blow landed squarely in Bryan’s face and Clarke prepared to make her escape. But Bryan made no sound of pain and his grip did not falter. Clarke’s heart came to the back of her throat as she realised that Bryan must be chipped and could not feel any pain. Any attempt to break free seemed futile. Clarke turned her head towards Murphy and Emori, who remained stood still behind her, uncomprehending of what was going on.

“Run!” Clarke shouted, “Get out!”

Finally Murphy and Emori came back to life and they seemed to register the danger that they were in. The couple made to wheel around and run back the way they had come from but it was too late. Two more people appeared behind them out of the darkness and before either of them could react, Murphy and Emori were both being held in choke-holds. Clarke watched as Emori drew her dagger and plunged it into her attacker’s thigh. She looked like she was about to yank the blade back out and Clarke gave a cry.

“Don’t! He could bleed out without even feeling it!” Clarke shouted and then, “They are still my people!” she implored.

Emori stared at her in challenge but eventually let her hand fall away from the dagger. It remained in place, embedded in the man’s thigh.

“Are you done?” Bryan’s voice whispered into Clarke’s ear and made her jump. She gave a nod. Clearly satisfied with their surrender, Bryan began to lead Clarke down the corridor. The others followed, still holding tightly to Murphy and Emori.

“Where is everyone else?” Clarke asked.

“They are still here. Think of Arkadia as a new sky box. You should feel quite at home at last,” Bryan explained, though Clarke knew it was not his own words he was being made to speak.

Bryan marched her into one of the main living areas of the building. Doors to people’s quarters lined the walls and each and every single one was deadlocked. Clarke realised then what Bryan meant. Her people were locked away behind those doors, unable to get out thanks to the lack of power. They had been imprisoned in their own home, their own rooms. Clarke wanted to scream and shout, to let the people behind those doors know that she was here and that she intended to do everything in her power to free them again. But Bryan’s grip on her wrists was like iron and Clarke knew that she was in fact powerless right now and any dramatics would only put herself and her companions in more danger. Clarke kept resolutely silent.

Eventually, Bryan brought Clarke to a stop outside one of the doors in the long corridor. It alone slid open and Clarke, Murphy and Emori were led into the bedroom. At last, their captors released their holds on the three prisoners and Clarke winced as she rubbed at each of her wrists in turn. She regarded the bedroom come prison cell critically and mused that at least this time she did not face solitary captivity. Still she said nothing to Bryan or the other two men.

It was Emori who broke the silence, “Please! Where is my brother?” She cried out desperately and Clarke felt her heart lurch for the woman she barely knew. “Where is Otan?”

There was a silence and Clarke thought that Emori wasn’t likely to get any answers. But then Bryan’s face broke out into a smile. Not a pleasant smile, but a dangerous flashing of his teeth.

“Otan is with us in the City of Light,” Bryan said, and then he reached into the pocket at the front of his hoodie and from it he procured a small pouch. He reached inside and took out one of the chips. “You can see him right now, if you just take this, Emori.”

Emori’s face fell and Clarke saw tears form in her eyes. Clarke frowned for she did not yet understand.

“He’s dead?” Emori asked meekly.

Bryan shook his head. “Emori, you know better. There is no death in the City of Light. He is waiting for you to join him at last. Don’t you think it’s time, you’ve kept him long enough?”

“Emori don’t!” Clarke warned.

Emori faced her, “I have to! I have to see my brother again!” she said and then before Clarke could think to move and stop her, Emori snatched the chip out of Bryan’s hands and placed it in her mouth. The room grew quiet as everyone watched and waited and then there was a sickening thud as Emori’s body went limp and crashed onto the floor.

“Emori!” Murphy let out and he rushed to her side and knelt beside her. Clarke watched as Murphy shook Emori and got no response.

“She’s fine Murphy. You know where she is. Don’t you want to join her?” Bryan asked and he held out a second chip to Murphy.

Murphy looked over his shoulder and regarded Clarke with an apologetic expression upon his face.

“Murphy…” she started but already Clarke knew it was futile. Murphy had risked his life already for Emori. Of course he was going to again.

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” he said. He reached out and took the chip from Bryan and let it dissolve on his tongue. “I promised I’d be right beside her,” he explained and then Murphy’s eyes closed and his body sagged to the side as the coma took effect.

Clarke looked from her now comatose companions up to Bryan. “If you were thinking of offering me one of those things, you needn’t bother,” she hissed.

Bryan tilted his head and regarded her bemusedly. “Oh don’t worry, Chancellor Griffin. I don’t want you. In fact, nobody wants you to join us. You’d only ruin everybody’s fun because that’s all you ever do,” Bryan taunted in a hollow voice. “No, you can stay right here and waste away, along with the other people too afraid to make a leap of faith. Some people just aren’t special.”

With that, Bryan and the two others left the bedroom and the door slid shut and locked behind them, leaving Clarke alone yet again. Clarke looked over the forms of Murphy and Emori on the floor with a dark expression. Bryan’s taunts rang in her ears, but then Clarke’s eyes widened as she realised the mistake he had made in telling her so resolutely that not a single chip was meant for her. For some reason, whatever or whoever was in control of the City of Light was terrified at the prospect of Clarke getting into the virtual reality. Clarke squared up and shot a glare at the locked door. She needed to break out, she knew. She needed to take a chip and get into the City of Light. And then she needed to, in Bryan’s words, ruin everyone's fun and expose the virtual reality for the nightmare that it truly was.

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As Titus paced into the throne room behind Ontari he had to make a concerted effort to keep his strides shorter than usual for the red sash that Ontari wore- Lexa’s sash- trailed even more than usual along the floor thanks to the stark difference in height between the true Commander and the pretender that styled it now. The Fleimkepa misjudged a step and he stopped short before his boot landed on the fabric, causing the procession of guards behind him to stop also, lest they careen into his back. There were titters among the Ambassadors at the farcical sight and whilst Titus could feel his cheeks grow hot at the embarrassment. He resumed his walk and took his usual place to the left side of the throne.

Ontari, who remained oblivious to, or had wisely decided to ignore, the small fuss, stepped up onto the plinth and turned to face the circle of Ambassador’s. Titus watched the girl closely.

“Sit,” Ontari snapped the order to the room. There were some grumbles but all of the Ambassador’s complied and took their seats. Titus watched as Ontari surveyed her would-be subjects and then she herself stepped back. She had to turn her head back as she sat, the position of the throne totally unfamiliar to her. Titus felt bile rise to the back of his throat at the wrongness of it all but he kept his face passive and waited to hear how Ontari had decided to move forward.

Tense silence blanketed the throne room and then at last, the pretender began to address the Kongeda for the first time. “By now I am sure you are all well aware of what transpired here the night before last,” Ontari started, “But for transparency's sake, let me tell you myself. I infiltrated the tower and slaughtered the nightbloods in an attempt at a coup against Commander Lexa’s rule. The Commander herself escaped the capital before I could kill her too. She chose to run, rather than face me,” Ontari paused then. “Commander Lexa has proven herself to be a coward, just like the nightblood that she played second ran to her whole life.”

Titus’s face paled and he turned to his left to regard Indra with an apologetic expression. If she saw him turn towards her, she ignored it, and the General remained facing forwards. Titus knew that Indra wouldn’t assume it was he who had told Ontari about Luna, even despite their earlier argument. Luna’s decision to run away from her conclave was common knowledge. Titus was shook from his thoughts by the sound of the Boat People’s Ambassador throwing up a protest.

“I object to this insult against my Captain!” the man bellowed, “Captain Luna was not a coward for running away, she was brave for daring to escape a fate that she did not accept.”

Ontari raised a hand to silence the man. It was the only thing she had done so far that reminded Titus of Lexa in any way.

“I do not mean to cause offense,” she shot back, “I only wish to show you that I understand that you all think that I currently sit upon this throne illegitimately. But it was the woman who sat here before me that started the precedence for playing loosely with tradition. And continued to do so throughout her reign.”

Titus frowned. Whilst knowledge that Luna had escaped her conclave was shared by all, the exact version of events that lead to her making her break for freedom remained shrouded to all but those who had been present. It made the tale far too easy for Ontari to twist to her purposes.

“I have called you to this meeting this evening because I want to make you a promise. I know that whilst Lexa still lives, you will not accept me as your Commander,” Ontari spoke again.

Her words made Titus relax again. The young pretender had taken his bait, had repeated his own words to the Kongeda and so, she had not even given them a chance to act differently before she had shown herself to be at the mercy of their whims.

“I promise you that I will have Lexa captured and brought back to Polis. I promise you that I will slaughter her as I did her nightbloods so that the spirit of the Commander may pass to a more suitable host. To myself. And then as your rightful leader, I will guide us back onto the true path, revoke ‘blood must not have blood’ and lay waste to the vermin that fell from the sky,” Ontari’s voice grew heated as she made her vows. “All I ask of you,” she said, quieter again, “Is that you do not stand in my way,” she finished.

The silent circle of Ambassadors broke out into a clamour of voices as each representative discussed their viewpoint with the person sat beside them. Eventually the din quieted and Titus waited with bated breath to see who would speak up. It was the Desert Clan Ambassador who stood and addressed the room,

“If you succeed in capturing and killing Lexa, then you will indeed have proven yourself worthy of the spirit, nightblood Ontari kom Azgeda. It would be our duty to follow you then, and we see no reason to attempt to stop you. Let fate take the course that it wishes to, as is our way.”

“As is our way,” Ontari agreed.

Titus could see the pretender smirking as she thought she had achieved a victory that evening. In a way she had, Ontari had played the room quite excellently. But what Ontari did not see was that she had been played herself. Titus allowed himself a quiet sigh and he closed his eyes a moment and reveled in his own small victory. For now, his guidance had prevented Ontari from attempting to name herself Commander immediately. He had stalled Ontari and now, if only Lexa could keep herself hidden long enough to heal, long enough to return to Polis with a very real chance of winning her throne back, then Titus had succeeded too in keeping his promise to her. He remained loyal to Commander Lexa, the one true Commander, and Titus would do so until his fight was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an absolute pain to get out but I am pretty happy with the end product. I'd just like to thank everyone that has left kudos or a comment, you will never know just how encouraging it is when I receive that little notification, especially when the writing isn't flowing!


	8. This Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALIEs followers are trapped unknowingly in the City of Light, the illusion of their perfect lives too strong to break free. Back in the real world, more of Arkadia's residents succumb to ALIE's sway now that they are faced with the very real danger of dying in the rooms they are locked in. But not everyone is content to just sit and wait for their resolve to falter or for their end to come, and a small band of Sky people may be the only hope to save the settlement and its people. All they need is someone with a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The City of Light nonsense is in full swing and gets a little weird at time, so please go careful. I'd also like to give a warning to anyone with a fear of heights/falling that a part near the end of this chapter might be uncomfortable to read.

**Chapter 8: This Town**

Monty let the door to his home slam shut behind him as he wheeled to face the new day. He breathed in the warm, pleasant smelling air and lifted his face to the sky; squinting at the bright morning sunlight. It was yet another beautiful day in the coastal city. Monty felt thoroughly refreshed after a perfect night’s sleep and so without further ado, he stepped off of the porch and started to make his way the short distance towards work.

As Monty strolled, he reached into the satchel at his hip and rummaged until he found his music player. He unravelled the wires and placed his headphones upon his ears and then he hit the shuffle button on his player and let it fill his head with music. It was an old song that started playing, ancient even, and as Monty rounded the corner and came out into the main square, Monty smiled at the dissonance between the lyrics filling his ears and the sight of the city before him. The song alluded to a place in the full swing of decline, of a place plagued with too few opportunities and all the social woes that came with that.  _  A ‘ghost town’  _ it stated. Yet before Monty was a clean, crisp city square filled with people. Everyone in the city seemed to cluster there every morning to enjoy a little time together before everyone went off to their own lives again. Monty hummed along to the music and kept walking.

He chose a route that hugged the railings of the coastside pathway and as he went he glanced out across the bay. The early sun reflected brilliantly off of the body of water; the ocean was calm with only a gentle breeze gliding over it to the shore.

The song came to a close and a new one started but by now, Monty was paying more attention to his surroundings than to what he could hear. He skirted around Murphy and Emori. The couple were huddled together, leaning against the railings as they ate their breakfast as was their tradition every morning. Monty glanced back at them as he went and offered a quick wave, which they returned. When he turned back, Emori’s brother, Otan, was walking towards him and he and Monty shared a polite nod.

Finally, Monty came to a halt at the usual spot on the walkway and he yanked his headphones down around his neck and waited. Before long, he felt a nudge on his shoulder and Monty turned from the sea view to regard Jasper with a smile. Jasper thrust a coffee in his direction.

“Top of the morning to you, good sir!” Jasper greeted brightly.

“Hey, thanks,” Monty replied as he took the offered beverage. He took a sip immediately for it was at exactly the right temperature to drinkstraight away.

“I’m sure it’s your turn to get the drinks tomorrow,” Jasper said.

Monty snorted. “You are the one who lives next door to the cafe. Besides, it’s not like my Mom charges you for them.”

Jasper did not protest and instead took a long drink of his own coffee. Then he made a satisfied noise. “Perfect.”

“Every single day,” Monty concurred. “Look I better scoot before I’m late. Raven will chew my ear off,” he said and he made to leave his best friend. “Try not to get into any trouble without me,” he finished as he resumed his journey.

Jasper pulled his face and shrugged, “There’s never trouble here, remember?”

Monty grinned back and rolled his eyes. He picked up his pace and veered away from the coastal walkway to skirt across the city square towards his workplace. A few other people waved or murmured greeting to him and he responded to each. As he made to venture down the side street, Monty stopped and flinched as a gaggle of children riding bicycles came speeding towards and around him, all of them laughing brightly as they raced one another to school. Monty shook his head and took a moment to collect himself. As he did so, his eyes found a large digital billboard and Monty watched transfixed as the familiar woman in the red dress and matching lipstick, smiled brightly and sang off some words about always building a better today. Then the image flickered away and was replaced by the face of Chancellor Jaha as the leader of the city began his morning address; filmed each day in the office at the very top of the skyscraper in which he resided, and had never left for as long as Monty could remember. Monty glanced over his shoulder back towards the square and the tower dominated the view now that Monty was specifically aware of its presence. It was easy to forget, or at least go unremarked upon when one spent more time looking out over the bay then back in towards the city.

Monty felt a sudden chill creep down his spine and he turned away and stalked quickly down the street. His work was halfway down and he reached into his satchel again and this time pulled out a card key, which he swiped on the reader. The doors opened and he entered the small building. Monty hurried now, aware that he had wasted even more time. He blazed past the plain white walls of the entrance foyer and into the back room that was the office space. As he expected, Raven was already sat at her own desk and working, her fingers tapping away furiously. When she heard him approach she stopped and wheeled around in her chair.

“You’re late,” she said, though her bright smile after she spoke betrayed that she was only teasing.

Monty ignored the jab and set himself up at his own workstation. “How are we doing?” he said as he waited for his console to boot.

“Right on schedule.”

Monty’s console flickered to life and the endless stream of code that he had been working on appeared on the screen. Without further hesitation, Monty fell to work, quite intent to have the upgrade that they were working on completed in good time. As the woman on the billboard had said, it was everyone's responsibility to work towards building a better today.

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It was difficult to tell when trapped inside the metal hull of the building in a windowless room, but Harper estimated that they had now been imprisoned for at least twenty-four hours. By now the effects of dehydration had started to show on the four inhabitants of the room. All of them were gaunt and pale. Harper let her head loll to the side against the wall, unwilling to exert herself to keep it upright. Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull and she tried to zone out the sounds of the child’s wails.

The young girl had been crying almost non-stop since they had been locked away. Not the tight grip of her mother’s arms nor the insistent whispers of comfort from her mother's mouth had soothed the child’s fear. Harper felt her stomach give a painful, hungry lurch, and she frowned as she imagined how much pain the little girl must be in.

“You have to stop her from crying,” Sinclair whispered, his voice cracked, “She will dehydrate sooner.”

Harper shot a dark look over to the chair on which SInclair was sat. Or rather he was drooped over the seat and looked like he might topple off at any moment.

“I’m trying!” the mother replied in a snap. But the anger soon abated and the desperate woman turned back to trying to quiet her daughter’s cries.

Harper let out a sigh. She could feel her ability to fight off the pain, her drive to stay strong, ebb away with each passing second. Her brain ached to the point of numbness and without realising she was doing it, Harper began to drift into a sleep right where she sat cross-legged on the floor. She jolted when the door to the room slid open with a hiss and she tried to shake herself back to alertness.

“Are you ready to take the leap of faith?” the woman who walked into the room asked immediately and she thrust a black pouch out to the room’s inhabitants.

“No,” Sinclair was the first to answer and his voice had regained some strength.

The woman with the chips made no response to Sinclair’s answer. Instead Harper watched as the woman turned her attention squarely upon the mother and child.

“Your daughter is going to die,” she said, her tone dull and emotionless.

The mother shook her head furiously and Harper saw tears forming in her eyes. Then the mother let out a sob and, bitterly, it was that noise that finally ceased the child’s own crying. The girl tipped her head to the side as she observed her mother. Then she reached with a pudgy hand and wiped at her mother’s cheeks.

“Mommy no!” the girl protested, “Mommy what’s wrong?”

Harper shut her eyes against the tragic sight, but still she listened.

“Nothing,” the mother’s reply came, “Nothing is the matter, my darling. You know what, we are finally going to leave this room! What do you think about that?”

Harper opened her eyes again at the sound of the girl’s excited squeal. Harper gazed at the mother and she almost opened her mouth to protest the decision the woman had made, but the words would not come. Harper knew she could not come between a mother choosing to protect her child from hurting any longer. She stayed silent and watched.

The mother turned to the woman with the chips, “We are ready,” she said.

The woman tilted her head, “Good,” she replied simply, and then she reached into the pouch she carried and pulled out two chips, which she handed over to the mother.

The mother considered them a moment.

“Don’t,” Sinclair protested.

“She has no choice, Sinclair,” Harper answered for the stricken parent. “What would you do if it were your child?”

Sinclair gave no response to that and so Harper turned her attention back to the mother. She was holding the chips out in the palm of her hand, showing them to her daughter.

“Look see,” she spoke softly, “The nice lady has brought us some medicine. To make our tummies and our heads better. You just need to place it on your tongue and it will all go away. Shall we do it on a count of three? One. Two. Three.”

Harper watched as the child took a chip out of her mother’s hand and placed it in her mouth. The mother did the same with hers. There seemed an impossibly long stretch of time, of utter silence, and then they both went limp and flopped over onto the floor. The mother still had one arm wrapped fiercely about her child. Harper gulped back her own tears.

“I will return in a few hours, as normal, to see if either of you have changed your mind and wish to join us,” the chipped woman filled the silence and then she made to leave.

“Wait!” Harper called out after her and the woman wheeled back around. “I’m ready too,” she said.

“Harper!”

“No Sinclair!” Harper cut the man off, “I am a guard and it’s my job to protect the people of Arkadia!” she shouted and her throat burned from the effort, “But I can’t do that when all of our people have already taken the chips!”

“We don’t know that! More people will resist, there are still people locked up that won’t take one,” Sinclair argued back.

Harper frowned. “That’s just wishful thinking, Sinclair, and you know it,” she seethed. “I’m taking one and joining my friends. You can too, or I guess you’re staying locked up alone.”

There was a beat as Harper and Sinclair stared one another down. But Harper could see the way Sinclair’s shoulders sagged and she knew she had gotten to him.

“Alright,” Sinclair muttered, “You’re right, we should be with our friends.”

Harper gave a nod and she regarded the chipped woman, who had been watching the battle of wills quite passively, with a determined look. “We’re ready,” she said evenly.

The woman wordlessly reached into the pouch and took out two more chips. She moved almost silently and passed one to Sinclair and then she approached and Harper reached out and took her own. She and Sinclair did not wait for a count of three and instead they both took the chip immediately.

When Harper’s eyes adjusted to the brilliant shine of the sun, she found Sinclair beaming back at her.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with awe.

Harper turned towards the bay and looked out upon a vast ocean. She felt a gentle breeze tickle against her face. The air was so sweet. “It is,” she agreed.

Harper heard the wonderful sound of a child’s laughter and she turned towards the noise. There, a little ways down the coastal path, was the mother and child. The girl was laughing brightly as her mother twirled her in the air. When the mother caught sight of Harper, she put her child back on the ground and waved. Harper smiled brightly and waved back. She felt like she had not a care in the world.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, once that door opens, Octavia and I will grab whoever comes in and hold them whilst you do your thing, right?” Miller talked out the plan one more time.

He and Lincoln were crouched in the middle of the room, whilst Octavia was listening out for any signs of movement, her ear pressed to the wall next to the doorway.

“Right,” Lincoln confirmed.

The chipped people had been coming like clockwork every few hours to offer chips to them. Miller saw what they were doing; waiting Arkadia out until everyone left was on the verge of dying from the lack of food and water. Those who had already taken the chips promised that there was no death in the City of Light. Octavia had explained as well as she could to him and Lincoln how the City was a sort of virtual reality that the chips gave you access to; for she had learned about it on her journey back to Arkadia with Clarke and Murphy. Miller knew that if desperate people were given the choice of facing death truly, or trying to cheat it in some way, most would jump at the latter.

He did not know if he, Lincoln, and Octavia were the only three people left that had remained resistant, but Miller did have faith that that resistance would not falter. The three of them had been at peak physical fitness before the food shortage and before the takeover of Arkadia and so they were still more alert, and stronger, than Miller expected most of the rest of Arkadia’s residents to be. He did not intend to squander that and together, the three of them had come up with an escape strategy.

“We’ll need to be quick, in case there’s more than one person. And before our chipper can warn anyone else about our escape,” Miller stated.

Lincoln gave a nod, “Don’t worry, we’re going to do this. We are going to get out of here and help our-”

“Someone’s coming!” Octavia’s harsh whisper cut Lincoln’s reassurances off.

In a flash, they took the positions they had discussed several times since the last chipped person had left them alone in the room yet again. Miller shot up off the floor and dashed over to one side of the door, his back flat against the wall. Octavia flanked the other side. Lincoln straightened up too and he stood squarely in the centre of the room, waiting and making himself look as imposing as possible. It wasn’t difficult for him to manage.

The footsteps in the corridor got louder as someone approached and then stopped. Miller held his breath and waited. He heard the door slide open, felt the vibrations of the hydraulic mechanism through the wall. It was Jackson who stepped through into the room, a bag of chips clutched tightly in his right hand. Miller shook any fears he had about hurting a friend out of his mind and he moved in unison with Octavia. The two of them launched off of the wall and grabbed at Jackson, holding him in place by his arms. Jackson immediately began to thrash about, trying to break free. He turned and twisted his arms with no regard for the extra damage he might be causing to himself in his attempts to escape the hold, but Miller did not lessen his grip and nor did Octavia.

“Lincoln!” she urged.

There was a sickening pop as Jackson gave a particularly violent pull, the force dislocating his right shoulder. Miller winced as he expected a scream of pain from Jackson, but none came and that was somehow worse.

Still Miller held fast and at last, Lincoln stepped forward and raised his hands. He delivered a single, devastating, right-hook to Jackson’s temple and the man finally ceased his struggling and went limp in Miller and Octavia’s hold, totally unconscious. They lowered him gently to the floor and then straightened up. There was a moment as he and Octavia regarded Lincoln. He looked back at them with unmistakable shame in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry I was so slow. It just-” he paused, “Seeing him thrashing around like that, totally unaware of himself. It brought back a few memories,” he said.

Miller offered a supportive smile to his friend and bowed his head in understanding. He watched as Octavia rushed over and enveloped Lincoln in a tight hug. She was whispering something to her partner that Miller could not make out and Miller averted his eyes, both to give the couple a little privacy whilst they shared a moment, and because the sight of them clutching to one another reminded Miller that he had no idea where Bryan was. They hadn’t been with one another when the attack had happened and although Miller had tried to spy his boyfriend among the chaos that had erupted in the camp exterior, he had not managed to.

Thinking to distract himself from his troublesome thoughts, Miller moved and picked up the bag of chips that the unconscious Jackson still clutched. He peered inside and found that the bag was almost empty. He turned back to Lincoln and Octavia and held the bag up. “We should try to get the rest of these,” he said.

Octavia shook her head, “We need to rescue anyone who might still be trapped first. We go to the console room and switch the power back on.”

“And then anybody that we free can help us to gather up the remaining chips,” Lincoln said.

Miller nodded and for now, he placed the bag of chips into a pocket on his guard jacket. “Let’s go before someone realises what’s happened,” he said.

The three of them finally exited the room they had been locked in and stepped out into the dark corridor. Miller took point and started walking, but he stopped dead and raised a hand when the shape of someone on the floor appeared out of the darkness. He heard Lincoln and Octavia come to a halt at his hand signal and then he turned his head to them and placed a finger to his lips, before pointing to the woman on the floor. Satisfied he had made his point, Miller moved again. He all but tiptoed forward and then skirted around the heap of the woman, putting as much distance as he could between himself and her in the narrow corridor. Images of a host of sleeping figures suddenly bursting to life and attacking flashed before his eyes and Miller grit his teeth. He hoped that they could sneak their way to the console room without incident. Their daring escape and rescue attempt was not going to be the exciting rush of action that Miller had imagined.

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Abby’s lips thinned as she confronted Bryan with a hard stare.

“Take a chip, Dr Griffin,” Bryan prompted mechanically.

Abby exhaled. “No,” she said and it felt like the thousandth time she had uttered that single word. Still, that fact did not deter Bryan.

“If you don’t take a chip you will die in this room,” he stated.

“I will die in this room whether I take a chip or not,” Abby corrected, “You have no intention of saving us.”

“The City of Light will be your salvation. You will live forever.”

Abby frowned. “The City of Light is a lie!” she snapped out, “It isn’t real! And being in there for eternity is not the same as being alive!” Abby halted when she realised she had been shouting. Although she knew it was not Bryan who spoke to her from the man’s mouth, still it was difficult to level any hostility towards him, or any of the other chipped people that had visited before to urge her to succumb and take a chip. They were still her people and as their medical chief, Abby felt an enormous responsibility to keep them safe. Shouting and screaming at them was not conductive to those responsibilities. Abby sighed. “I wish you would wake up and see how you’ve all been fooled, Bryan. I know life on the ground has been hard on us all, but it’s real. It’s what matters. I know you must think I’m weak and cynical for wanting to hold onto my pain; but I won’t let myself forget what good I had, just to try to cheat my way out of remembering the bad.”

As she spoke, Abby’s eyes drifted over to Jaha. He had collapsed into a coma the moment they had been locked away in the room, and so Abby had dragged his limp body onto the bed and left him there. The sight of his face, peaceful as in sleep or worse, made her shiver and so Abby looked back to Bryan.

Bryan tilted his head, “Organic beings are prone to such pessimism. That is why trusting in something better requires a leap of faith,” he said.

Abby considered those words and furrowed her brow. She locked her eyes onto Bryan’s again. “I won’t leap. I won’t take a chip. The only way you’ll get me to join your lie is to force one down my throat.”

There was a beat and Abby half expected Bryan to spring forward and try to do just that. Her throat restricted involuntarily at the thought. But Bryan did not budge.

“That would not work. Your mind must consent to being freed or it will not accept the chip. It would be a painful death. Undignified,” he explained.

Abby huffed, “Undignified?” she repeated back in a dangerous whisper, and then, “Leave me alone.” She was done arguing by now.

“Just take a chip. Do you want me to leave one in the room for you?” Bryan persisted.

“Oh, that’s a new one,” Abby mused. She found herself wondering why Bryan seemed so much more desperate to have her give in this time around. “Tell me, if your City of Light is so perfect, why are you so intent on having a Doctor join you?”

“You would be joining your friends, not your patients, Abby,” Bryan corrected.

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Oh. And what about my family? What about my daughter? If you want me to take a chip so badly, surely you’d think to promise me a nice happy life with Clarke.” Abby knew it was a risk to provide Bryan with ammunition, to reveal a strategy that could work against her. But she also knew it was the best way to reveal the flaws in Bryan’s current approach.

Bryan stared at her with a dead look in his eyes. He did not speak and the silence said volumes to Abby. She felt her insides churn and her cheeks grew hot as her temper flared.

“You’re not going to give a chip to Clarke, are you?” she asked and then she actually smirked, “You’re scared of her. Good. You should be.” Even amongst the rage that now burned inside her, Abby could feel her heart swell with pride as she spoke.

“Clarke would not be compatible with our vision,” Bryan stated, “She lacks faith.”

“My daughter has all the faith she needs,” Abby hissed back.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to leave you a chip, Dr. Griffin? It would hurt Clarke to find out you chose to die.”

At last Bryan turned the ammunition Abby had gifted to him against her, but he had left it too late and the threat breezed over Abby like it was nothing. “No. It would hurt her to find out I gave in. That I gave up trying to live in the real world, no matter how desperate things may get.” Abby paused and she stalked closer to Bryan and bared her teeth, “And if you think I would do anything to hurt my daughter, then you are sadly mistaken.”

Bryan met her stare. “I’m not sure how much longer we can keep coming to visit you. Soon our minds will be truly free. Take a chip and live forever, or die alone.”

“Go to hell,” Abby seethed back. As she said the words, Abby felt her heart plummet; for she knew that though they did not realise it, Bryan and every other person who had taken a chip were already there.

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It was a painstaking process, making their way through the labyrinthine building in almost total darkness. Lincoln gritted his teeth together as he stepped carefully over a pile of collapsed people that were completely blocking the path through the corridor. He did not know how much further they had to go to get to the console room, it was difficult to tell where they  were as each corridor looked much like the other even when they were illuminated and one could see where one was going. Lincoln only hoped that they were close, for the effort of trying not to trample one of the sleeping people, coupled with the terror at the thought of them springing awake at any moment, was wearing his nerves thin.

Lincoln planted his feet firmly on the other side of the blockade of people and he shared a dark look with Octavia on the other side. Her face was set with concentration and a fierce determination that he had come to adore so much. The sight bolstered him and Lincoln readied himself to carry on. Miller had gone ahead already and was glancing around the next corner. Then he put up a hand and turned back. Lincoln watched as Miller signed that he had seen someone in the next corridor. Lincoln crept over to the corner and had a quick look himself and he could just about make out a figure standing in an open doorway to one of the bedrooms. It was an opportunity to break someone else out.

“Are we going to help?” Lincoln whispered, barely audible.

Miller gave a nod, “We have to go this way anyway,” he replied.

Octavia came and joined them at the corner and gave an expectant look.

“One of the chippers is awake down the corridor and has one of the doors open. We’re going to get whoever is in the room,” Miller explained. “You two wait here, I’ll handle it.”

Lincoln did not protest for he trusted Miller to do what was necessary. He backed himself against the wall and peeked around the corner as Miller made his way around and down the next corridor. Miller went painfully slowly, there were yet more sleeping people to dodge around and of course he did not want to alert the awakened person to his approach. Lincoln could feel his heart beating furiously in his chest as he and Octavia watched the guard’s progress from their hiding place.

At last Miller snuck close enough to strike but Lincoln watched, peering through the dimness as Miller’s figure stopped dead. Lincoln’s heartbeat thundered in his ears as there was a moment when he was sure Miller had been detected, for he had frozen completely on the spot. Lincoln let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding when Miller came to life again and grabbed the figure they had spotted from behind. Lincoln watched as Miller choked the chipped man into unconsciousness and then guided the man to the floor once it was done. Lincoln darted around the corner and picked his way over to Miller, Octavia followed behind him. When he reached his friend he saw that Miller had tears in his eyes and Lincoln regarded him quizically. Then he instinctively glanced down at the floor at the now unconscious figure and saw that it was Bryan.

Lincoln looked back up to Miller and reached out to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder in silent comfort. His eyes roamed over to Octavia and they shared a meaningful look, for they knew exactly how it felt for someone to have to hurt the person they loved because that person was no longer himself. They knew what it was like to face a threat posed by the very person they should be able to trust most in the world to do them no harm.

The moment passed and Lincoln was suddenly keen to find out exactly who they had just rescued. He let his hand drop from Miller’s shoulder and was the first to step from the corridor into the room. His face broke out into a smile when he saw who it was, and then Octavia came barreling past him to envelop her friend in a tight hug.

“Clarke!” Octavia exclaimed as loud as she dared and Lincoln watched as she stepped out of the hug and regarded Clarke in shock, “We thought you were still with Lexa, when did you get back?” she asked.

Clarke grimaced. “I’m not sure, maybe twelve hours ago? I had to come back sooner than I’d have liked because Lexa told me things about the City of Light. About its connection to the grounders.”

That peaked Lincoln’s interest and he stepped towards Clarke, “What things?”

Clarke shook her head, “I can’t tell you. Even I shouldn’t know and I won’t betray the trust Lexa put in me by telling me. But it’s bad.”

Octavia snorted, “Of course it is. When do we ever receive good news?”

“Guys, can we take this elsewhere? We are making too much noise,” Miller cut in. He had finally come into the room too.

Lincoln turned from him back to Clarke and saw her nod in agreement.

“We need to get to the console room,” Clarke said.

“That’s where we were headed already,” Lincoln confirmed, “To switch the power back on and let anyone else out,” he added.

Clarke frowned at him. “No. We don’t do that until we’ve shut the City of Light down. We’d only be putting what’s left of our people in more danger.”

Lincoln considered that and saw that Clarke was right. Anyone who was left was likely in a bad way by now and would be no match against the strength of the chipped people.

“You want to shut the virtual reality down?” Octavia asked, “How?”

“I’ll explain when we get to the console room. Miller’s right, we shouldn't stay here any longer. I don’t know how you managed to get to me without anyone in the corridors waking up. That’s how we got caught,” Clarke said and she pointed over to the bed, on which Murphy and a woman were lain. Lincoln hadn’t even noticed them in his shock at seeing Clarke.

“Maybe whoever is controlling the chippers has less power in Arkadia now that most of them are already in the City of Light? Or maybe they don’t know about the escape. Lincoln knocked Jackson flat out. I guess that could mess with the chip's connection or something?” Octavia guessed at.

“Or maybe we’ve just had some dumb luck,” Miller shot back, and he was obviously very eager to leave by now.

“Well, let’s go before that luck runs out,” Clarke said resolutely and so the four of them exited the room. Lincoln made to keep up with Clarke and Octavia, but he paused when he did not hear Miller’s footsteps behind him. He turned around and found Miller staring down at Bryan’s unconscious body.

“Hey, come on,” Lincoln urged quietly, “Let’s go fix this mess.”

Miller glanced up at him and the sadness in his face was replaced with steel. He began to move and so did Lincoln. They caught up to Clarke and Octavia, and the team stalked along the corridor; pushing onwards towards the console room.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven gave up typing when she went cross-eyed yet again, the code on the console screen blurring before her. She gave a yawn and stretched her arms over her head.

“Hey, do you want a coffee?” Raven turned and asked Monty. He was still very much absorbed in his work and he simply gave an affirmative grumble without looking away from the screen.

Raven would had ribbed him for his lack of manners, but she knew how important the work was and did not want to break his focus, and so Raven let it slide. She placed her hands against her workstation and pushed her chair away, spinning round as she went. Raven sprang onto her feet and moved, stretching upwards again as she went, to the opposite corner of the office space where there was a small kitchenette. Raven flicked the coffee machine on to reheat the pot she had made that morning and then she gave a sigh as it occurred to her that she had used the last of the milk for her first cup of the day. Still, out of habit, Raven bent over and opened the small fridge up. There was a full bottle of milk waiting for her in the door. Raven frowned.

“Hey Monty!” she called and then waited. Another grunt came back in response. “Did you pick up a fresh bottle of milk today?”

There was a beat and then, “No,” Monty answered simply.

Raven’s forehead crumpled in confusion. She was absolutely sure she had emptied the bottle that morning and yet there the full one was right before her eyes. She snatched the bottle out of the fridge and held it in her hand. Then she opened it and raised it to her face. It smelled as fresh as milk could. Raven gave a shrug and plonked the bottle down onto the countertop. She froze, her hand still wrapped around the bottle as she spotted a strange metal figurine on the counter by the now boiling coffee pot.

Her hand left the bottle and glided over to the mystery object and she picked it up and inspected the thing. It was an origami raven fashioned out of a thin sheet of metal. As she felt it’s weight in her hand, her heart lurched suddenly, as if it was aching to remember something she simply could not place. Raven breathed deeply and raised the figurine up to eye level. Then she blinked and when her eyes re-opened, Raven jumped as the unfamiliar face of a boy with soft brown hair flashed in front of her eyes. She gave a yelp and tossed the raven figurine back onto the counter and the image fizzled away.

“Everything alright back there?” Monty’s voice broke Raven further out of the shock of her strange experience.

She turned briefly towards Monty’s voice. When she faced the countertop again, the raven had disappeared. Raven made a noise of confusion but then suddenly, a wave of calm washed through her and Raven refocused on the task she had come over to the kitchenette to do. She shook her head,

“Yeah. Just burned myself on the coffee pot a little,” she replied to Monty, and then she set about making two cups of coffee. When it came to pouring the milk into the drinks, Raven could no longer remember the confusion she had felt about its appearance in the fridge, when she had been so sure they had run out. All was well again.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The team of four eventually made it down to the console room in the underbelly of the building. Octavia stepped off of the last step and glanced uncomfortably about the packed room. The servers and generators that powered Arkadia were all totally silent and the air down in the room was still and clammy. Octavia grimaced. She moved further into the space, Miller at her back and together they swept each corner and nook to check that they were clear. Then Octavia let out a gasp when she spied a lone figure collapsed on the floor and Miller came shooting past her.

“Monty!” he exclaimed and Octavia watched as Miller knelt down and shook Monty by the shoulders. She knew it was a futile attempt at waking their friend up, but she said nothing and let Miller process it all in his own way. Finally, Miller gave up trying to rouse Monty and instead he settled for rearranging his limp body into a more comfortable position.

“I hate to think of the cramp everyone’s gonna have when we wake them,” Octavia mused, trying to diffuse the tension that had built in the already claustrophobic space. And then the young warrior was struck with a sudden and desperate need to see something being done about the terrible situation and so she wheeled around and faced Clarke, “So what’s your plan?” she asked expectantly.

Clarke let out a croak and her brows knitted together. “It’s, well, it’s kind of a work in progress,” she admitted.

Octavia sucked in her breath and balled her hands into fists in frustration. Still, she wanted to give her friend and current leader the benefit of the doubt and so she refrained from showing any sign of her cynicism in her face as best she could. “I’m sure it’s better than having nothing,” she offered.

Clarke sighed and began pacing the limited space, her hand coming up to rub at her forehead. Octavia tracked her movement with her eyes.

“Well the chipped people that have been coming round to my room-” Clarke started,

“To try to get you to take a chip? I think they’ve been going around to everyone,” Miller chimed in.

Clarke raised a finger, “See that’s the thing. When they captured us, they offered a chip to Emori and Murphy right away. But when I told them where to stick them, Bryan let slip that they didn’t even want me to take a chip.” Clarke offered an apologetic smile to Miller when she mentioned Bryan’s name.

Octavia considered what Clarke had said and gave a nod, “They are scared of you. Why?”

Clarke shrugged and actually gave a snort, “Well Bryan said I’d just ruin everyone’s fun if I got into the City of Light.”

Octavia grinned back at that. She was guilty herself of thinking Clarke to be something of a party pooper at times, though now she was infinitely thankful that her friend possessed that infallible streak of sensibleness.

“I’m not sure exactly why they don’t want me in there,” Clark continued on, serious again, “Maybe it’s because they know I know too much about what the City of Light is. Which is why the first step in my plan is taking a chip.”

Octavia’s eyes widened and she felt her heartbeat quicken at the idea. She remained silent and waited for Clarke to explain herself further.

“I’ve been mulling over everything whilst in the bedroom and I think that the comas started, that whoever is controlling the chips accelerated their plans, because I nearly got to Raven. I’m sure I did.” Clarke paused a moment and then, “You know the chips; they are faulty. They are meant to take away pain but a side effect of that is that you start to forget who you are. Memories attached to the pain you have gone through start to fade, even if those memories are good. Raven forgot who Finn was. Jaha forgot his own son.”

Octavia felt a shiver run down her spine and she reflexively glanced over to Lincoln and found that he was already staring back at her with a pained look in his eyes. Far too many things were cutting a little too close to the traumas they had endured to be together. She moved over to Lincoln and wrapped an arm about his waist.

“When I tried to remind Raven of Finn I’m sure that whatever it is controlling everyone lost their grip on her for a moment. I think the comas, putting people in the City of Light permanently, was their counter. To reestablish full control. But we all know how stubborn Raven is, if I can get in there and find her, maybe I can get her to break free again. And if I can do that, if I can get her and Monty out, then hopefully they can use whatever they’ve been working on down here and turn it against the City of Light. That’s the plan.”

Octavia winced. “Alright, but how do you know you’ll be able to keep yourself from slipping under the illusion when you get in there? And how do you intend to get back out with Raven and Monty even if you break free? They could already be fighting against the virtual reality right now, but with no way to wake themselves up.” Octavia hated to be so pessimistic but there were so many holes in Clarke’s strategy, so many things they still didn’t understand about what was really happening, that she could hardly stand the idea of Clarke taking the risk.

Clarke met her eyes and she looked apologetic, “Honestly I have no idea. I just know that something or someone really doesn’t want me in there…”

“And when someone says no to Clarke,” Miller mused.

“Exactly,” Clarke agreed, “I know it’s a half-baked plan at best, but it’s also all I’ve got.”

“Let’s do it,” Lincoln piped up, ever the voice of optimism in the group. Octavia pulled him even closer to her and rested her head on his chest.

Clarke gave a nod. “Alright. Whilst I’m in there, you and Miller should go circle around the building and try to round up as many of the chips as you can find. I want them gone. I don’t want to lose anyone else to the virtual reality whilst I’m in there.”

Lincoln nodded. “We can collect the chips and burn them.”

“And if we find Raven, we’ll bring her back here so that you’ll all be together when you wake up,” Miller offered.

“Good idea,” Clarke agreed.

Now it was only Octavia who did not have a task. She pushed away from Lincoln and squared up, “I’ll stay here with you Clarke, and watch over you whilst you go in."

Clarke offered an appreciative smile at the offer. “Thank you,” she said.

The room fell quiet as the magnitude of what they were about to attempt dawned on the group. Octavia felt as though an invisible force was pressing down upon her shoulders and she did not relish being stuck in the console room for an indefinite amount of time, though she knew she would not abandon her friend no matter how oppressive that feeling got. Octavia had spent the first sixteen years of her life living with that downward force after all, and she knew she could face it again for the sake of saving her people. Her heart gave a lurch.

“Lincoln?” she said quietly, though it sounded like a whip crack in the total silence of the room, “If you get chance to on your rounds, will you check on the cell room? Will you see if Bellamy is still awake?”

Lincoln closed the space between them again and placed his hand upon her shoulder. She felt as his thumb massaged the muscles there.

Lincoln smiled softly, “Of course,” he replied.

“We should start,” Miller stated and he pulled the bag of chips he had taken from Jackson out of his pocket. He then procured a single chip from the bag and offered it to Clarke.

Octavia watched closely as Clarke took the chip into her hand. Clarke let it roll into her palm and she looked up at the three people watching her.

“Whatever happens to me whilst I’m in there, if I look like I’m in pain or worse, you do not follow me, you understand? Not a single one of you is to take a chip to try to rescue me.” Clarke said resolutely.

Octavia smirked. “Is that an order, Chancellor Griffin?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to swear to me, then yes,” Clarke shot back and Octavia thought it was the first time she had not seen Clarke betray any annoyance at hearing her current title being used.

“Alright. We won’t try to follow you,” Octavia promised sincerely.

Miller made a point of placing the bag of chips back in his pocket, “The only thing that’ll be swallowing any more of these things is the flames when we set the damn things on fire,” he said. Then he turned to Lincoln, “Ready to rock and roll?”

“Ready to-  _ what _ ?” Lincoln asked and Octavia grinned at the look of confusion on his face at the unfamiliar colloquialism.

Miller snorted, “Let’s go, man.”

Lincoln opted for a simple nod then and then he moved in front of Octavia and cupped her cheeks. She gazed up at him adoringly.

“Ste klir,” she whispered.

“You too,” he replied and then he bent forward and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. When their lips parted, their foreheads stayed rested together a moment. “Ai hod yu in, Octavia,” Lincoln said.

Octavia kissed him again. “Ai hod yu in seintaim.”

With that, Lincoln moved away from her and then he and Miller were gone out of the console room. When Octavia met Clarke’s gaze, her friend was looking at her with the sadness of understanding and perhaps a hint of jealousy.

“Hey, you got yours earlier,” Octavia teased because every moment of lightness they could find made the atmosphere in the console room that bit more bearable. Besides that, she just enjoyed making Clarke squirm. Her friend was infinitely confident, like stone, when it came to leading her people. But when it came to more personal matters, Octavia had gleefully identified that Clarke had quite the bashful streak.

Sure enough, Clarke’s cheeks coloured red and she screwed up her face, “Really?” she whined.

Octavia shrugged, “Well, it might just be the last time I get to rib you, so…”

“Oh, I’m not touching that one,” Clarke said with a laugh and then she moved forward and offered out her arm and just like that, the mood grew sombre once again.

Octavia set her jaw and raised her own arm. The friends clasped forearms in the grounder tradition. When they parted, Clarke sat herself on the floor. She wasted no more time and Octavia watched as Clarke popped the chip Miller had given to her into her mouth. Clarke glanced up at Octavia.

“May we meet again,” Clarke said and Octavia made to respond but the words turned into a gasp as Clarke’s eyes closed. Clarke flopped messily to the side. Octavia sprang forward and lay Clarke down properly, and then she stood up straight and began her watch.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Clarke’s eyes adjusted to the stark brightness, she found herself looking out of floor-to-ceiling windows atop an immensely tall tower. Her vertigo at the sudden realisation of being so very high up was offset by the sheer beauty of the view before her. The wall of windows looked out upon a bay, and beyond that a crystal blue ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see. Clarke shivered for she had never seen so much water before in her life. Then her face creased into a frown when she realised that technically she still hadn’t. She was in the City of Light and nothing before her was real. it was only in her mind.

Still, Clarke could already see the appeal of the illusion and she pressed her hands flat against the window and peered down- so far down- to a city square that teemed with life. The people in the square, her people, seemed as small as insects from her vantage point. They were a blur of figures as they went about their fake perfect lives in their fake perfect home. Clarke shivered again and felt her stomach turn at the canniness of it all. Everywhere was too clean and too bright. It was clinical. To her resisting mind, it all but screamed out it’s artificiality.

“Hello, Clarke.”

Clarke jumped at the sound of someone greeting her and she whipped around towards the voice. Clarke’s mouth fell agape when her eyes settled on Thelonius Jaha. He was sat on an ornate wooden chair with red leather furnishings. Perhaps a throne would be a more appropriate descriptor. And the throne was situated behind an equally ornate desk. The only place Clarke had seen furniture as pristine as that before was in Mount Weather. Clarke grimaced at the memories of the Presidential Office in the complex; of the wrongness of its existence given the state of the world outside the mountain’s walls. The office there had been a relic of the old world, a world that had gone terribly wrong thanks in no small part to the decisions made by the people who resided in such offices. To see Jaha sat in his own luxurious suite at the top of an obscene tower was disconcerting to say the least. Clarke narrowed her eyes at the former Chancellor and then she made a show of looking about the space.

“It’s a pretty nice setup you’ve got here, isn’t it?” Clarke asked, “I assume it comes with a fancy title too?”

“Just Chancellor,” Jaha replied with a smile, “A little familiarity is always a nice touch, don’t you think?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, “There’s nothing familiar about this though is there?” she protested, “You know if you’d have asked me to guess what sort of life you of all people imagined for yourself on the Earth, this wouldn’t be it.”

Jaha rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers as he considered her a moment, “Of course not. This is far beyond any reality we could ever hope to find. The City of Light is limitless, so why have any limits?” he said.

“I see. So does that mean that all those people down in the square have their own towers somewhere too?”

“My people live the lives they want to lead. They are happy,” Jaha answered.

Clarke felt as the overwhelming urge to rush over and physically try to shake Jaha to his senses rushed through her body. Her fingertips tingled. She creased our brow, “Those people down there, playing make believe, are all wasting away in the real world. They’re dying, Jaha,” Clarke snapped.

“There is no death in the City of Light, Clarke. What use have they for their mortal bodies when their minds can live on forever in utopia. They can eat when they want, but will never starve. They can achieve their every goal, fulfil their every desire. Everyone is a king in the City of Light,” Jaha delivered evenly, as if he was repeating words he had learned by heart but had not thought of himself.

“It look like only one person is living like a King here from where I’m standing,” Clarke said and then a thought occurred to her and she opened her mouth again to test her theory, “Whoever controls this place is paying particular attention to their first believer. Is this your reward then? Is this how they stroke your ego and keep you in line? Your life for a little kingdom of your own.”

Jaha’s clever eyes fixed onto Clarke’s face but the man made no response. Clarke took the silence to mean she was on the right path and carried on with her verbal onslaught.

“You know when we first reached the ground, Wells and I were hated by pretty much everyone for the simple reason that we were the children of the Chancellor and Council Members. They mocked us, refused to listen to us when we urged everyone to stop messing about and start thinking seriously about how to survive on the ground. Bellamy Blake told us that if we wanted to find food we’d have to do it ourselves. ‘Let the privileged do the work for a change’ he said,” Clarke paused and shook her head, “I used to think they were wrong for thinking of the Council and of you like that. I grew up visiting your quarters after all, you were as good as and Uncle to me as my parents were to Wells. So how could that kind, generous man I grew-up admiring be so totally misunderstood by so many of our people? But look at you now. The man in his tower overlooking his subjects. They were right about us all along.”

Clarke watched as Jaha’s eyes narrowed and for the briefest moment she saw confusion pass over his face. She let out a scoff.

“Of course,” she said, “You probably don’t even know what I’m talking about. Do you remember your son? Wells Jaha? He got stabbed in the neck by a girl just because he looked like his father; the man who had taken that girls own parents away from her?”

Jaha’s mouth fell open. “Wells?” he repeated the name experimentally.

Clarke nodded and approached the desk. She put her hands on the wooden surface and leaned across it towards Jaha; “Yes. Wells. Your son. Think.”

Clarke was certain she was about to break Jaha’s resolve. His face was contorted and his mouth worked. Clarke could imagine him trying to remove the fog of the illusion from his mind, trying to pry the influence of whoever controlled his thoughts away from his brain.

“I can’t,” Jaha finally said, “I don’t have a son.”

Clarke let out a growl of frustration and she grabbed aimlessly at something on the desk. Her hand found a glass decanter filled with some golden spirit and she picked it up and then brought it down hard against the wooden desk. It smashed into pieces. “You did!” she screamed, “Wells! You had a son named Wells! He was good and kind and he was my best friend!” Clarke’s voice became a croak as tears came to her eyes at her own memories of Wells. She had barely had the time to think of him herself and now bringing him up again was a shock to her system. She realised suddenly just how much she missed him, just how large a hole his death had left in her heart. Clarke felt a tear trail down her cheek. “Please remember,” she begged.

Jaha gave a sad smile, the lines of confusion on his face smoothing. “I do,” he murmured, “My son.”

Clarke almost let out a sob of joy but the brief glimmer of hope was dashed, as the shattered decanter suddenly reformed before her eyes. Not a shard of glass nor a drip of liquid was left on the desk or floor, and it stood perfectly formed in its original place as if it had never been smashed at all. Then Clarke caught a glare of bright red to Jaha’s right through her tears and when she shifted her gaze to the splash of colour she found that it was a red dress that clung tightly to a woman’s figure. Clarke’s eyes drifted upwards to the woman’s face and the woman stared back at her with her head tilted to the side in curiosity. She was attractive, Clarke had to admit, with jet black hair that tumbled over one shoulder and lipstick that matched her dress. Yet there was also something ominous about the woman, something inherently threatening and Clarke immediately put her guard up.

When the woman spoke, her raspy voice seemed to cut right through Clarke; “We meet properly at last, Clarke,” she said quietly.

Clarke was sure in that moment that she had finally come face to face with the being that controlled the City of Light, that had wormed its- or her- way into Jaha’s mind and now had almost the entirety of Arkadia trapped in her web.

“At last? I thought you never wanted to see me in here? I’m sorry you have me at a disadvantage.”

“You may call me ALIE. And whilst I admit that we didn’t get off to the best of starts, now that you are here after all I intend to be hospitable. It’s only polite to welcome you to the City of Light as I have the rest of your people, Clarke,” ALIE said.

Clarke winced at the way that ALIE had said her name. Tacked onto the end of her sentence like that and with her hair styled as it was, it felt eerily familiar to someone Clarke wanted to keep far out of her mind. She feared that ALIE might read her thoughts and try to erase that person from her memory; in an attempt to establish the control over Clarke that ALIE no doubt coveted and had so far been denied.

Clarke decided to try to ignore ALIE as best she could, for looking at her too long made Clarke’s skin crawl. Clarke knew that she had chosen to appear at that moment because Clarke had, for a few seconds at least, gotten through to Jaha.

“Jaha, where can I find Raven and Monty?” she asked and she turned her attention back to him.

“And why do you need to know that?” he asked.

Clark offered a pleasant smile, “I want to see my friends.”

“She’s bluffing,” ALIE snapped.

“Why do you really want to see them Clarke?” Jaha tried again.

Clarke gulped. She knew she could not get away with lying. ALIE was far too clever for that. Still, Clarke stood tall and set her jaw in determination, “I want to see my friends,” she repeated and she spelled each word out mockingly. Her eyes flashed to ALIE and she was staring back with a horrifying glint of malice in her eyes.

“You cannot bluff your way past me, Clarke,” ALIE hissed, “I am a computer program, I am infallible.”

Clarke met ALIE’s stare with a wicked look of her own, “If you were infallible you wouldn’t be so terrified of me,” she spat and then she rounded on Jaha again, “You managed to remember your son, to recall the bond you had with him, now please remember your duty to your people. You swore to keep them safe. And I think you know in your heart that this isn’t the way. You know you’ve made a terrible mistake. So please, Chancellor, please Uncle, help me to start putting things back right. Help me to save our people!”

Jaha’s words were almost drowned out by the piercing screech that ALIE let out, it was such an awful and inhuman sound, but Clarke just about made the directions out; “Go out to the square and turn left. Take the third street. Halfway down there is an office building with a door that requires a keycard. Your friends are there.”

As soon as Jaha finished giving his directions, he vanished and Clarke blinked in disbelief. Her eyes darted around the office, expecting to see him appeared somewhere else. But then suddenly, there was no office at all and Clark’s heart lodged in her throat as she looked down and saw nothing at all but the concrete of the square far, far below her. She looked back up and jerked away as ALIE now stood right before her with a look of pure evil upon her face.

“Now who’s terrified?” ALIE hissed and she reached out and pushed Clarke squarely in the chest. Clarke tripped backwards.

Clarke’s stomach lurched and rolled and she was falling because the invisible floor she had been standing upon was no longer there. She screamed aloud as she fell and fell; it was so far down to go. Clarke closed her eyes and all that she could think to do was to remind herself over and over and over again that none of it was real, that all of this was only happening in her mind, was only ALIE trying to scare her into submission, or boot her out of the virtual reality. Still she fell and every second felt like an eternity until Clarke was certain she must be close to hitting the floor by now. She thought of how ironic it was for her to be falling to the ground again, only this time without the protection of a dropship. And the ground she was falling to didn’t really exist, she remembered again. Maybe if she clasped hard enough to that thought, she would fall right on through the fake concrete that awaited her and simply continue to fall for an eternity. Clarke wasn’t sure she like that idea any more than actually hitting the ground. In that moment, faced with the sudden dread that this could indeed be it for her, Clarke opened her mouth and a single name escaped her lips. In a goodbye; or in a final act of resistance; or in a prayer for help.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa felt her jaw tighten and she cocked her chin, defiant against Heda Toman’s scrutiny. The man she had succeeded responded by sitting straighter in his chair.

“You ran. You took the coward’s way out. Just like Luna,” he reiterated.

Lexa stood stock still in the centre of the meeting place, the nine Commanders that had come before her all sat in their chairs in a half-circle before her. The space was much like the throne room in Polis tower, yet here it was Lexa who felt like the subject. It was she who stood before her previous selves in judgement. It was here that she was so often chewed up and spat back out. She did not let the sting of Toman’s words show upon her face.

“I ran to protect the chip from falling into the hands of the Azgeda nightblood. I will return as soon as I have healed well enough to fight,” Lexa argued her case evenly.

“Then you admit to your weakness,” came another voice and Lexa turned her head away from Toman and regarded Heda Samya, who had ruled from Lexa’s fourth to eighth year, before she had been assassinated by her own personal bodyguard. It wasn’t a loss that the Trikru had mourned.

“I wanted to stay,” Lexa shot back, “It was Fleimkepa Titus who counseled me to leave until I was stronger and I chose to heed his wisdom.”

“The wisdom of the man who had shot you in the first place. How slippery you have made your rule with your penchant for mercy,” Samya drawled.

Lexa grit her teeth as the urge to raise her voice bubbled up in her gut. She had almost talked herself out of entering into a meditative state, of coming into the Soncha Kapa to argue her case for running from Polis, after the nightmares had persisted for a second night. Still, she had resolved it was better to at least try to speak to the previous Commander’s on her own terms, in utter consciousness, so that maybe they’d go a little easier on her during the nights, when it was their spirits that took control of her sleeping mind and ran amok within it. Lexa knew now that she had been naive, that she had let hope get the better of her. But she could not let them know that, for it would only give them more to use against her. Heda Lexa, she never learns. Lexa raised an eyebrow,

“Perhaps we should compare notes on slippery rules and untrustworthy servants, Samya,” Lexa chided, leaving out Samya’s title for good measure. She was rewarded with an offended hiss.

“You should mind your tone, Lexa,” Toman spoke up in support of his predecessor for they had been much of the same ilk. Warmongers. Absolutely ruthless in their pursuit of blood, and willing to go looking for trouble when it was not flowing fast enough to sate them.

“You should mind your loyalties, Toman,” Lexa said, “Or is it so that after eight years at near constant war with Azgeda you would now see one of them sat upon the throne? Do you detest me so much that you’d rather have Nia’s pawn take my place?”

Toman’s grey eyes bore into her but he remained silent. Lexa was unsure how to take his lack of reply and so she turned away from him and let her gaze sweep over the others who sat before her. Lexa paused when her eyes met Promheda Beka’s and the two shared a meaningful look. Lexa thought that Beka was giving her encouragement to continue arguing her case, but Lexa could not be sure. She could never be sure for Beka rarely spoke up. Lexa moved her eyes again and let them settle upon Heda Iva, the fourth Heda that had lived and died well before Lexa’s time. Iva was arguably one of the most beloved leaders, with many a tale and legend built around her reign. Anya had told Lexa those tales often when Lexa was growing up, and so from the first few times that Lexa had entered the Soncha Kapa, she felt she had developed a rapport with Iva that she did not share with the other eight.

“Heda Iva, you laid so much of the groundwork that has shaped the Trikru into the strong and resilient clan it is to this day. How would you like to see that territory fall into Azgeda hands after we have fought for so many years to keep that from happening?” Lexa asked.

Heda Iva’s face was totally serene and betrayed none of her thoughts. She took plenty of time to consider Lexa’s query. “Things are much different now than when I was in command,” she mused in her quiet, enrapturing voice, “It is no longer just Trikru lands that are coveted, but the seat at the head of your coalition too.”

“Queen Nia had been plotting to claim our territory for her own before I came to power. She trained her nightblood from girlhood to overthrow our leader. Ontari would have been ready to try her coup whether the Kongeda stood or not,” Lexa said.

But the existence of the Kongeda does sweeten the reward considerably,” Heda Marshol spoke up now. He was Iva’s successor and a harsh man, though Lexa understood that more than she did the harshness of the others for he had had a difficult rule indeed.

“That is hardly cause to question its existence. I have heard first hand how it has benefited our people’s lives and that is why I continue to fight for its survival; even now that the original reason for my creating the coalition has been vanquished.”

“Vanquished not by your coalition, but by the sky people,” Heda Marshol pointed out and Lexa opened her mouth to protest for she had no intention of suggesting otherwise, and felt that Marshol was putting words into her mouth. They were all quite adept at that, her previous selves, during these meetings. But Marshol raised a hand and continued before Lexa could speak; “Which is by no means something I wish to question, the time for that has passed and am sure we are all quite tired of the subject by now. I will remind you that it was I who first faced the mountain when our territory stretched into its range. I am grateful that that threat is gone, no matter how it got defeated in the end. I only wish to remind everyone that sometimes fate has it that the original intent of a plan no longer applies when all is said and done and that is quite out of our control. We can choose to change the way things are done, but we cannot foresee every consequence of those changes.”

“What is your point Marshol? How is this at all relevant to the mess that we now face?” Samya spat out and although lexa bristled at the barely disguised insult, she also found herself agreeing with Samya’s questions. A rarity indeed.

“I mean to say that is the decision we now face. Do we choose to allow the spirit to find its way into an Azgeda nightblood for she is now the most worthy contender? Or do we leave it in the hands of fate?” Marshol explained, though Lexa thought it was a half-answer at best.

“You mean do you want me to surrender myself immediately, or are you going to let me return to Polis in my own time so that I may attempt to win my throne back?” Lexa translated for him. Now it was Marshol who stayed silent, just like Toman had. Lexa almost laughed and she wondered if she could go around the whole circle and get them all to lose their voices like that. It was sorely tempting to try. The amusement that she felt soon faded and gave way to a burning hot anger however. Lexa was tired of the half-answers, she was sick of the riddles and the insults and the whole atmosphere of negativity that always permeated the Soncha Kapa. The nine people sat before her were supposed to be her counsel, their echoes saved in the chip in her neck so that she could seek support from their years of wisdom, from the history of her people that they themselves had lived. Instead they offered nothing, spoke of fate and choice in ever cryptic circles. It was infuriating.

“I am going to fight to get my throne back and I am going to win,” Lexa stated, “I will not surrender even if you wish me to.” Lexa knew that all of them were quite aware that they could not force her to do something that she did not wish to by now. They could fill her nights with as many nightmares and warnings as they wished. Lexa would take a lifetime of disturbed sleep rather than succumb to their whims. Lexa snarled. “There hasn’t been a single full-scale war between the Trikru and another clan since I took Command. The mountain was felled during my command. Our people have flourished more than they’ve ever done before in these last few months under my command. I have faced the loss of those I care about without letting that loss interfere with my duties. I have seen off an attempted coup and proven my strength in a duel to the death.” Lexa was incensed by now. She rarely spoke so highly of herself, but the total lack of faith her previous selves seemed to have in her had finally struck a nerve one too many times.

Her voice came out in an unmeasured shout as she went on, “I have faced all of this after countless sleepless nights because I could not stand the thought of what visions you might deem fit to torture me with each time I did something that wasn’t exactly how things have always been done. And that suffering I have endured, the loneliness and the pain, I would go through it all again if it meant keeping my people safe. And despite that, not one of you has ever been able to let go of the notion that I don’t deserve to be among you, that I should never have received the flame, simply because I will not stand by and follow traditions that have done nothing but cause a circle of violence and death. I want my people to live, everything I have done, every change I have made to our way of life has been to better fulfill my duties to them. And yet here you sit, debating whether or not I should surrender myself to an Azgeda pretender. |Someone who’s competence as a leader has never once been tested, and who likely holds no esteem for the people you claim to want to help the current Commander serve; simply because you think that your precious rules are best followed to any end. If I am unworthy of carrying the flame, then none of you were either,” Lexa’s voice quieted to a hiss as she finally came to a close and she sucked in a breath, quite taken aback with the ferocity with which she’d lost her temper. Not even Titus had managed to anger her to such an extent.

The air felt thick, like the words Lexa had bellowed still hung in the atmosphere of the meeting place. She stood her ground and squared her shoulders as she waited for the inevitable storm she had conjured to crash down upon her. Lexa almost startled when it was Promheda Beka who spoke up first.

“Are you finished, Lexa?” she asked and her voice was raspy and calm.

Lexa sucked in her bottom lip and gave a slow nod, worried that if she opened her mouth again, more vitriol would come pouring out. It wasn’t enough however, and Promheda Beka continued to stare Lexa down, probably waiting for a verbal apology.

Knowing that she would only make matters worse by delaying it longer, Lexa opened her mouth to say she was sorry, but the word caught in the back of her throat and a whine of terror escaped her mouth in its place for she heard her name being called out from somewhere beyond the meeting place. Or rather, she did not hear her name being called, but felt it reverberating throughout her body. Lexa felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she almost trembled with the sudden onset of desperation. The inexplicable knowledge she now had that Clarke was in terrible danger and was calling out to Lexa for help, made her knees go week. Lexa found herself wheeling away from the half-circle of chairs and her eyes gazed out and away past the invisible walls of the meeting place, past where the structure of the dream realm faded away to the white fog of nothingness.

“Clarke!” Lexa called into the nothingness for she knew that beyond the fog there was another dream realm, a place that she was forbidden to enter. But now she knew that she must go there for that was where Clarke had called her from, she was certain. Lexa turned back to Beka and raised her chin, for if she had felt her name being cried out, so too had the echoes of the previous Commanders.

“Lexa,” Beka said her name in a low warning, “You know you cannot follow her there, it is forbidden.”

“Why?” Lexa responded petulantly. She knew that Beka would not give an answer, for she had never explained the reason to anybody, not one of the other eight Commander’s knew why the other dream realm was off-limits and had had to learn to accept it.

“Do not go there,” was all Beka said back.

“Tell me why I musn’t, or I will,” Lexa answered and yet again she was met with silence. It was what Lexa had hoped for and she let the silent meeting place and the nine judgmental faces fade away.

The cave that Lexa woke up in was just as quiet as the Soncha Kapa had been. Lexa’s eyes flickered open and she sprang onto her feet and made short work of gathering up her belongings. She could go immediately to the other realm from where she was, she would just need to enter a new trance state. But Lexa burned with the need to see Clarke’s real body first, to be certain before she went and broke one of the rules made by Promheda Beka herself, that doing so was totally justified. It was unlikely she’d ever be forgiven for it by any of the previous Commanders.

Lexa pushed all thought aside and she bolted out of the cave. At a full run, it would only take her an hour or less to reach Arkadia for she had not moved as far away from the settlement as she should have, unable to venture too far away when she knew she might be needed by the Sky people. Needed by Clarke. Heda Lexa sprinted through the woods. Heda Lexa never learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Monty was listening to was of course Ghost Town by The Specials and it inspired the title of this chapter!
> 
> How do you feel about my approach to the City of Light, and to Lexa's own little part of the Soncha Kapa where she speaks to her past selves? I created a timeline for ten Commanders, including Lexa, and I will happily post it in an appendices once I've finished, if people would be interested in seeing it :)


	9. Soncha Kapa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke attempts to shut down the City of Light with the help of her friends. But first, she must battle against ALIE's influence as the AI tries harder than ever to secure control over Arkadia's residents. Back in the real world, Lincoln and Miller run into some unexpected help. In the virtual reality, Monty and Raven grow ever closer to finishing the upgrade for ALIE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote most of the City of Light sequences before the finale aired, based solely on the leaked footage of them filming in Vancouver. Although I haven't watched the final episode, it looks like I was pretty close to the mark on what happens. So I guess you can consider part of this chapter a direct retcon of the finale episode, much like the first chapter was.
> 
> Quick warning that there is some moderate violence in this chapter and later on, reasonably graphic descriptions of a surgical procedure. Stay safe!

Chapter 9: Soncha Kapa

At some point during her long fall, Clarke’s body had rolled around in the virtual air and now, the grey-white surface of the concrete stared back at her as she hovered, suspended in midair with mere inches between the tip of her nose and the hard surface. Clarke let out a scream. Her tummy continued to turn somersaults as though she was still falling, the impossibility of her current situation too strange for her body’s reactions to catch up to. The invisible force that kept her suspended disappeared and Clarke hit the ground not with the resolute crash she had been expecting, but with a thud that knocked the wind from her chest. Clarke rested her cheek against the cool surface of concrete. She tried to catch her breath, the rise and fall of her back the only movement she made. Tears streamed down her face.

Clarke wasn’t sure if her surviving the fall was down to the resolve she had held onto even as she had plunged downwards, or if it was ALIE continuing to play games with her mind. The artificial intelligence had tried to scare Clarke into submission and when that hadn’t worked, perhaps she had saved Clarke just to try a new technique. 

With a huff, Clarke rolled herself onto her back and stared up at the sky. It was covered with ominous grey clouds that looked fit to burst at any moment and soak the virtual city. Clarke furrowed her brow. It had been brilliantly sunny until her fall. She placed her palms flat on the concrete and pushed herself into a sitting position. Even that simple, slow movement set her head spinning again and Clarke shut her eyes against the pain that shot through her brain. Clarke felt as though she was about to pass out. Instead, she pushed herself up again and came to a standing position, her eyes still shut against the world. When Clarke opened them again, it hit her that she was totally alone in the plaza. Not one of the people she had spied from the top of the tower was anywhere to be seen and Clarke made absolutely sure of that by circling about on the spot.

“Hello?” Clarke yelled into the empty city square. There came no reply and everywhere was dead silent. Too silent, Clarke realised. She quieted her breathing, but even then it was all she could hear. There was no breeze, no noise coming from the ocean. It was as though the simulation was on mute. Clarke circled again, faster this time as panic began to seep into her bones at the utter solitude she felt. It became too much for her to bear and she shut her eyes tight again and let out a whine of fear. 

Clarke’s skin prickled as she stood and the weak light filtering through her eyelids suddenly grew uncomfortably bright, like she had shut her eyes whilst facing direct sunlight. Clarke could hear her heart hammering in her chest and when she dared to open her eyes yet again, a sob erupted from Clarke as she found that the whole city had disappeared, replaced instead by a sort of brilliant white fog. The fog swirled and seemed to go on forever, the more Clarke stared into it, the more the nothingness seemed to beckon her. Clarke dared to take a step forward and not even her step made any noise. 

“Clarke!” a voice pierced into the utter silence and Clarke jolted violently as if the sudden noise had physically assaulted her.

“Clarke!” It came again, even louder and more insistent. 

It was impossible to place the direction from which the voice came, for in the fog it seemed like it echoed everywhere. Clarke glanced about this way and that, her movements growing desperate. She began to run forward into the fog, propelled by her panic. By now her heart had lodged itself in the back of her throat and her stomach still churned. She ran and ran and the sound of her name being called continued to echo all around her until it was a constant, droning chant. 

“Where are you?” Clarke cried out as she moved. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks.

Her footsteps echoing added to the chanting of her name and after the silence it made Clarke’s ears ring and her head spin. She didn’t register at first that the reason for the sudden return of sound was that the city was reforming out of the fog all around. Roads and buildings sprang out of the nothing, the creation spiraling around and towards Clarke until she was once again stood atop the stairs in the square, where the tower had stood. It was the only part of the city that had not reappeared. Everything else looked exactly as it had before it had blinked out, with the exception that it was now raining heavily, and the square was filled with people.

Clarke glanced about. Each person was stood stock still and they were all staring up into the sky, letting the raindrops splash on their face. They looked like so many statues.

“Clarke!” the voice came again. Finally Clarke could place it and she turned her body and came face to face with Jasper.

“Jasper! Oh thank god! I thought I was totally alone here, you have to help me!” Clarke started, her voice cracked from the tears and rushed from panic.

Jasper stared at her in the same way that everyone else stared up to the sky. A cold, dead-eye stare that raised Clarke’s hackles. 

“It’s raining,” Jasper finally said to her.

Clarke gave a shrug. 

“It never rains here,” he added when she remained silent. “Not until you came. You’re ruining it for everyone.” Jasper’s voice was harsh and accusatory. Clarke winced, for it was actually the most familiar thing she had encountered so far in the City of Light.

She opened her mouth to protest; “No! I’m trying to help you all Jasper! Can’t you see? I’m trying to save you!”

Jasper sneered at her. “We don’t want saving, Clarke. When will you learn?” he spat and then before Clarke could think to react, Jasper raised a fist and punched her in the nose. 

Clarke gave a yell and dropped to the ground, from shock as much as from the impact of the blow. She felt liquid on her face that was too warm to be rain and she lifted a hand to her nose. When she took it away, her fingers were red with blood. She almost laughed for hadn’t she been promised that there was no pain in the City of Light? That was proven to be a lie once again as Jasper struck, using his feet this time to kick Clarke in her gut. The blow winded her and she rolled onto her back with a pained groan. Her eyes fluttered and when they refocused, it was not just Jasper that stood over her, but a whole circle of familiar faces, each one contorted with rage and hatred. Another blow came and then another and Clarke’s whole world was nothing but agony as her people turned against her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lincoln kept his arm locked tight around the chipped woman’s neck until he felt her go limp in his arms. He lowered the unconscious woman to the floor and made short work of patting down her clothes until he found the prize for his efforts; a small pouch of the chips. Lincoln untied his own bag from his belt and tipped the few chips from the pouch into it, adding to those he had already collected. Then he glanced down the corridor and listened out for any more signs of movement. When he was certain he was alone, Lincoln turned over his shoulder and called out gently;

“All clear.”

Miller appeared from around the previous corridor where he had been hiding. As he moved forward towards Lincoln, he hefted Raven more securely into his arms. Raven was as limp as the woman that Lincoln had just choked into sleep and so she gave no protest at being jostled about.

“You still ok with her?” Lincoln asked as Miller reached him; the man’s progress along the person-littered corridor was even slower than before with the added weight.

“I’m fine. Besides, you’re better at that,” Miller said and he cocked his head down towards their latest victim, “than I am.”

It felt like something of a backhanded compliment, but Lincoln merely gave a nod. Miller was right, after all, for Lincoln had many more years experience of being a warrior than the guard did. They both knew from countless training sessions that there wasn’t a person in Arkadia who could best Lincoln in hand to hand combat. With that knowledge, Miller had volunteered himself to carry Raven back down to the console room, whilst Lincoln took point and made sure the way was clear.

“Alright,” Lincoln said, “Let’s move on.” He was about to move forward again when a clatter came from around the next corner and Lincoln paused mid-step and brought his foot down silently. He shared a look with Miller, silently communicating that his friend should stay put whilst Lincoln went and dealt with the chipped person that awaited them.

As soon as Miller motioned his head in understanding, Lincoln went. He darted as quickly and quietly as he could down the walkway, dodging sleeping bodies as he went. He took the briefest glance around the corner and as soon as he saw that the chipper had their back turned to him, he took the opportunity presented and shot forward. Lincoln lunged and grabbed the person around the neck, his muscles already tensing, ready to constrict the person’s airway and render them unconscious. But Lincoln’s iron grip faltered as he felt the sharp pain of a boot heel being kicked back against the join between his shin and right foot and in the next instant, Lincoln’s stomach rolled as he found himself being turned on end. He was in the air for all of a moment before his back made hard contact with the metal floor. Lincoln let out a grunt as his vision swam with the impact of the blow. He braced himself for the next attack, but none came and when his eyes finally readjusted, he found himself peering up into the face of his Commander.

“Well,” came Miller’s voice and Lincoln rolled onto his side and turned to face his friend. Miller had obviously been alerted by the commotion and had left Raven alone in favour for coming to Lincoln’s aid, for he now carried his gun aloft rather than Raven’s form. “It looks like someone finally beat your ass. I was going to offer help but… hard pass,” Miller finished and he lowered his gun.

Lincoln turned from his friend back to his leader and he had to blink twice for he found that Lexa was actually smirking at him. Then she offered out her arm and Lincoln took the offered help and picked himself up off of the floor.

“For what it’s worth, Lincoln, I didn’t hear you approach until you were in arms reach,” Commander Lexa spoke and her voice was light. Friendly, even.

Lincoln gave his own smile, but it didn’t last and his expression grew dark again as he regarded his Commander. She was in a disheveled state and her face was flushed as if from great exertion. It looked like she had ran here at full pelt and Lincoln guessed that for some reason, she probably had done just that.

“Commander? Why are you here?” Lincoln asked.

“The Commander?” Miller piped up before Commander Lexa could respond, “Should I bow? Am I supposed to bow?”

Lincoln regarded Miller with an amused look, although he knew that some sort of formality was probably appropriate. But before he could offer Miller a surreptitious nod of confirmation, the Commander spoke up;

“No. That’s not necessary. This is hardly an official visit,” she said, and then without further explanation; “Lincoln, I need to see Clarke. I- I sensed she was in some sort of danger,” Lexa stated as if she was certain that her senses were correct. Lincoln creased his brow, for impossibly, the Commander was indeed right.

“She’s in the console room. Well, her body is. She took one of the chips and went into the City of Light to try to save her people that are trapped in there.”

Lexa’s eyes grew wide with panic, “Clarke is in the Soncha Kapa? You must take me to her!” Lincoln did not know exactly what Lexa knew about the City of Light, though Clarke had told him that there was some connection between the Commander and the virtual reality that was an absolute secret, but nonetheless he felt his heart shudder at the fear in his Commander’s voice. It was a fear he knew well; the absolutely terrifying experience of finding out that the person you loved was in immediate danger.

“I can take you. We’ve got to get Raven there anyway,” Miller offered. Lincoln watched as his friend returned the way they had come from and in a few moments he reappeared, carrying Raven in his arms again. 

Lincoln watched as Commander Lexa’s eyes roamed over Raven’s motionless body and he swore he detected a flash of remorse as the leader regarded the girl she'd once had tortured under a false accusation.

“We should all hurry to the console room,” Miller’s voice shook Lincoln from his thoughts and he regarded his friend and shook his head,

“No. You take Raven with the Commander. She’ll be able to protect you both,” Lincoln said, “I’m going to go to the cell room. I have a promise to keep.”

Miller considered him a moment and then gave a nod. “Alright. But you realise you probably won’t be able to get into the room? The door will be locked tight.”

Lincoln sighed, “I’ll knock on and just see if anyone is awake in there.”

“Stay safe, bro,” Miller said to him and though Lincoln knew that the term was just a generic nickname used between good friends among the Sky people, still he felt himself smile in response to hearing it. Especially considering the circumstances under which he and Miller had first spoken to one another. They had come a long way.

“You too,” He answered and then he turned his attention to the Commander.

“I’ll keep them safe,” she said without waiting for Lincoln to ask.

With that, Miller started to move away, motioning that the Commander should join him. Lincoln watched them until they turned off down another corridor and were out of his sight and then he turned and headed back the way he had come from. He wasn’t far from the cell room and so he retraced his steps a while and then took the path that led to the prison and nowhere else. As Miller had warned him, the door was shut tight and Lincoln had no way of getting into the room.

Lincoln stepped right up to the door and started by experimentally pressing his ear against the metal. He listened carefully, but could hear nothing from within. Lincoln gave a sigh and lifted a hand and he rapped a fist against the door, hoping that the sound wouldn’t attract unwanted attention.

“Is anyone still awake in there?” he called as loud as he dared to.

He was met by utter silence and Lincoln exhaled deeply and shut his eyes in disappointment. He was about to move away from the door when;

“Lincoln?” came Bellamy’s voice, barely audible but unmistakable.

Lincoln pressed his ear harder against the door. “Bellamy? You’re ok?”

There was a beat and then; “Not exactly the word I’d use, but yeah, I’m still here,” Bellamy replied.

“Is anyone else?”

“No. No, I’m the only person left awake in here. They got to the others,” Bellamy confirmed.

Lincoln had to admit to himself that he was surprised to find out that Bellamy had not caved and taken a chip. There was surely plenty of things the man would prefer to forget and he had been given the chance to do just that. “I didn’t expect you’d still be here,” Lincoln admitted.

There was another long pause and Lincoln thought that he had offended Bellamy into silence. But then the prisoner spoke again, “I was tempted, I’ll admit. But I knew that Octavia wouldn’t give in and take one and, even if I’m not much use to her in here, I still couldn’t abandon her,” Bellamy explained. “Not again,” he added for they both knew that Bellamy had abandoned his sister if not physically, but emotionally, when he had thrown his lot in with Pike’s anti-grounder agenda.

Lincoln felt his lips curve into a sad smile. “She hasn’t given in. We managed to break free. She’s in the console room right now, guarding Clarke whilst the Chancellor tries to shut the chips down from the inside.”

This time, Bellamy gave no reply and Lincoln realised that mentioning that Clarke was on the case probably hadn’t had the desired effect on Bellamy. 

“Octavia made me promise to come and check on you, you know. She still loves you,” Lincoln said, turning the subject back to Octavia in the hopes of getting Bellamy to respond again.

“You can love family because they are family and detest them for everything else,” Bellamy’s response came. “But that won’t stop me from trying to make amends for what I’ve done. Even if I die trying. You can tell my little sister that I’ll be ok. I’m not going anywhere,” Bellamy drifted off at the double entendre.

“I’ll tell her,” Lincoln promised and with that, he backed away from the door and left Bellamy alone.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Not far to go now,” the guard, Miller, broke the silence that had fallen over them. His tone was reassuring.

Lexa regarded Miller and gave a terse nod, annoyed that her desperation to get to their destination, and to Clarke, was apparently so easy for even a stranger to pick up on. They had made their way through the maze of Arkadia’s interior in almost complete quiet; both to avoid making unnecessary noise and thanks to the awkwardness of unfamiliarity. Miller had spoken up to give direction to Lexa a few times, but little else.

The journey had been uneventful, and for that Lexa was thankful. Though she had been entirely prepared to have to strike against one of the afflicted residents of Arkadia if necessary, it hadn’t been something Lexa wanted to do. They were her people, a fact she had made sure of when she had gotten onto her knees before Clarke and sworn as such, and the thought of causing them harm even for their own protection made Lexa wince. Lexa gave an exhale and tensed her jaw as she tried to rid herself of such dark thoughts.

“I’m sure Clarke will be ok,” Miller spoke up again. He was certainly an observant man. “She’s strong,” he added.

Lexa allowed her lips to tug upwards slightly as a warming sense of pride settled itself within her. “She is,” Lexa agreed simply.

Lexa saw as Miller offered her his own smile, but then his face grew pained as if something troubling had just occurred to him.

“Is something wrong, Miller?” Lexa asked, her voice soft but probing.

Miller jerked his head, “Nah. Well it’s nothing to concern you with, Commander. I know I’m not that great with the whole protocol thing, but it’s probably not something I should say,” he replied.

Lexa raised an eyebrow. Now she was curious. “I already told you that I am not here on an official visit. Tell me,” she said. Despite her words, there was the barest hint of the Commander in the tone she used, if only to better encourage Miller to share his thoughts.

“Alright, I guess I was just thinking how you and Clarke, seeing how you’ve obviously worked through your previous conflicts and come out stronger on the other side. Well, it’s nice to see. It gives me hope that Bryan and I might be able to do the same,” Miller explained.

Lexa tried not to let the rush of embarrassment she felt at hearing someone mention her relationship with Clarke so casually; as if it was already common knowledge; show on her face. Instead she focused on what Miller was communicating to her about his own situation. She considered him as they walked, “Bryan is your loved one?”

“Yeah. He’s from Farm Station. I waited three months to see him again, only to find that we ended up on opposite sides of a political war. And now he’s taken a chip,” Miller said, his voice low and filled with hurt, “I had to put him to sleep when we rescued Clarke.”

Lexa swallowed hard. Miller was describing a situation she knew all too well and her heart ached at the memories that his words conjured up. Her jaw worked as she battled to keep her composure. Lexa managed to offer Miller a supportive look, “If the feelings between you are strong enough, if the love you share is true, fate will lead you both back to the right path. It will guide you back together,” she gave in reply, “Don’t lose hope, Miller, though that’s easier said than done.”

There was a pause as Miller took in her reply and Lexa worried for a moment that she had been too open, too sincere. It was so strange to her to be communicating of such things, and with someone much closer to her own age than she was accustomed to dealing with. At last Miller gave a nod.

“Thanks,” Miller said and then immediately after, “We’re here.”

Lexa looked forward and saw that they had come to a set of stairs that led down in a curve. She wasted no more time and went down them two at once, suddenly even more desperate than before to see Clarke with her own two eyes, to know that she was well. She followed the curve of the stairs and came out into a claustrophobic room filled with technology. She ignored the tech and rounded into the centre of the room where she came face to face with Octavia. Lexa was about to give a nod in greeting, but her eyes darted to the floor behind Octavia and Lexa felt her heart plummet into her stomach at what she saw.

“Clarke!” Lexa cried and she barreled past Octavia and dropped to her knees. Her hands shot out and she stroked at Clarke’s cheeks. Clarke's face wasdeathly white and her skin was damp with sweat. Lexa would have instinctively felt for a pulse if it wasn’t for the fact that she could feel Clarke’s body shivering as she moved her hands from Clarke’s cheeks to paw at her shoulders and arms. Blood was seeping from Clarke’s nose and the sight made Lexa feel sick. Lexa felt herself prickle and her eyes darted from Clarke’s unconscious form up to Octavia, “What’s wrong with her? Why aren’t you doing more to help her?” Lexa could not keep the anger out of her voice, though she knew it was misplaced and a response to the sheer panic that gripped her.

Octavia must have known this too, for she set her jaw and locked her eyes onto Lexa in defiance.

“Clarke made us swear not to take a chip and follow her into the virtual reality, no matter what.” It was Miller who spoke up in Octavia’s defence. He had moved into the console room and Lexa watched as he deposited Raven’s form onto the floor next to an equally unconscious boy.

Lexa took a few breaths and tried to calm herself. She looked back down to Clarke and then reached into a pocket on her cloak and pulled from it the blanket she had taken from the cave they had slept in. Now she used it to wipe gently at Clarke’s face, removing as much sweat and blood as she could. Lexa dumped the blanket to one side and considered her options a moment, though she already knew exactly what she intended to do. Lexa untied the sheaths carrying her two swords from her back and laid them down. Next, she undid her cloak and then draped it over Clarke’s body. Finally, she readjusted herself so that she was sat cross-legged behind Clarke’s form, and she gently lifted Clarke’s head and rested it into her lap. Lexa smoothed Clarke’s hair away from her damp forehead and then let her left hand rest against Clarke’s cheek. With her right, she reached out and took Clarke’s hand tight into her own.  
Both Octavia and Miller had watched her in silence, obviously trying to be respectful. Now Octavia spoke up, “What are you doing?” she asked, perceptive as usual and fully aware that Lexa wasn’t just making things a little more comfortable for Clarke.

Lexa glared up at her. “I’m going in there after her,” she stated with confidence.

Octavia gave a wince, “You can’t, Commander. We don’t have any chips here, do we?”

Miller shook his head, “No, Lincoln was carrying them all. He might even have destroyed them by now.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. “It’s fine. I don’t need one,” she said resolutely, communicating to both of them that she wouldn’t elaborate more than that.

Both of the Sky people looked back at her with slack jaws and then Octavia nodded, “Alright then. I guess Clarke never gave you orders not to follow her,” she said.

“Though I’m sure she’ll have something to say about it when she sees me,” Lexa shot back.

“Good luck in there I guess,” Octavia replied with a smirk.

Lexa gave a nod of thanks at the sentiment and then she began to slow her breathing and prepared to enter the trance state that would take her into the Soncha Kapa and to Clarke. Then she remembered something, a promise she had made, and she looked back to Octavia a moment. “I forgot to tell you before, Octavia,” Lexa spoke, “Indra asked me to send you her regards.”

The last thing Lexa saw in the real world was Octavia’s grateful smile and then her eyes closed and Lexa felt the sensation of falling and moving forward simultaneously as her mind opened and traveled into the dream realm. Lexa felt a tug as her mind met the meeting place of the Commanders, but she resisted and focused harder, pushing her consciousness even further than that, out towards the forbidden dream realm beyond. The sensation of forward momentum slowed and then stopped completely and Lexa opened her eyes. Her breath caught at the sight before her. The dream realm appeared like Lexa imagined a city from the old world would have looked , before the bombs had fallen. It was brilliant and white, crisp and clean and new. There were rows upon rows of imposing buildings, all complete and all majestic, even in the heavy rain that was pouring from a dark sky. Lexa thought that at last she knew how Polis would have looked at one point, before it was turned to ruins and then slowly rebuilt, or rather patched up, over the years by Trikru. 

Lexa shook herself from her awe, remembering that she did not have the time to appreciate the sights, no matter how magnificent they were. That she intended to seek out something that surpassed even the beauty of the dream city lessened the sting somewhat, but then Lexa’s mood fouled as she wondered how she would ever find Clarke in such a huge place. At that thought, the answer came unbidden. All of a sudden Lexa felt herself tremble as her whole body was overtaken with the undeniable sense of being called somewhere. It felt like when she had heard Clarke calling out her name whilst she had been communing with the previous Commanders. Only now the sensation was even stronger and Lexa accepted the inexplicable pull and allowed it to propel her body into motion. Lexa shot forward, rushing through the unfamiliar place as easily as she might navigate the streets of Polis. Her body was certain of where it needed to go, as if there were a blazing beacon of fire in the distance that Lexa was headed for. She felt the air whip by her and the rain soaked her as she sprinted further and further into the city and then she burst out into a plaza that overlooked an endless ocean. Lexa hardly registered the view this time though, her eyes darting instead to the mob of strangely dressed people collected halfway down a large set of stairs. The mob was obviously in the middle of a brutal attack, their victim trapped in the circle of their bodies.

It was then that Lexa realised that she had materialised in the dream realm wearing her long coat. She reached hopefully up behind her head and was relieved when her palms wrapped around the hilts of two swords. It seemed she had come to the dream realm quite prepared for a fight and now Lexa drew the swords and tested their weight. She launched forward down the stairs and towards the mob, her movements swift and near silent. Nobody saw her coming until she was already among them and with a confident flourish of her blades, Lexa dispatched one of the attackers. She did not dwell on what their fate would be, given that they were all in a place that existed only in the mind, and Lexa focused solely on the need to protect Clarke from further attack. She let out a feral growl as one of the mob lunged at her, fists flying wildly. Lexa dodged with an elegant spin and used the momentum to bring one of her swords around in an arcing slash across the man’s chest. He went sprawling down the next flight of stairs.

A flash of movement alerted Lexa to a new attacker and she wheeled around to block. The woman gave a yell as her flailing arms came into contact with Lexa’s blades and Lexa leaned her weight into the weapons, cutting into skin as she pushed the woman away. She lowered her swords to her side and sent the woman flying with a vicious kick to the gut. 

By now the rest of the mob had dispersed as the remaining attackers attempted to outflank Lexa. She raised her swords again in threat and stalked further down the stairs, driving the circling group to the bottom. That is when they took the chance, and the last four people all rushed at Lexa in unison. Lexa spiraled and ducked to dodge their blows and the attackers almost barreled into one another in their confusion at her speed. Lexa did not let up and her blades whistled through the air as she danced towards them again. She caught one man in the back and he fell to the floor, clearing her a path to the other three. They tried once more to circle her, but Lexa was too quick. In a flurry of complex footwork, she moved. She shouldered one man to the floor and then span forward to dispatch the woman standing opposite. Her movement was totally fluid, one attack bleeding into the next as she rounded on the last man standing. She twirled the sword in her left hand to increase its momentum before bringing it down and across to slash the man’s throat. Lexa bristled as she detected movement behind her for the man she had shouldered had managed to pick himself back up. She was a blur as she rounded on him and before he could attack, she raised both blades in front of her so that he ran directly onto their points and skewered himself. Lexa yanked the weapons free and watched the last adversary as he crumpled to the floor. 

Lexa did not pause to revel in her victory and the moment she was certain that nobody else was likely to get back up, she dashed back up the stairs and dropped onto the floor next to Clarke. If Clarke had looked in a bad way in the real world, here in the dream realm it was even worse. Blood was pouring from her nose onto the concrete and her face was mottled with bruises. Clarke was crumpled on her side and Lexa’s heart all but gave out on her at the sounds of Clarke’s pained whimpers.

“Clarke?” she said softly and she reached out with gentle hands and took Clarke by the shoulders. She rolled Clarke onto her back but Clarke’s eyes were squeezed shut and she gave no response. “Clarke, it’s me. I’m here,” Lexa urged and she brushed a thumb over Clarke’s bruised cheek.

At last Clarke’s eyes fluttered open. Clarke looked up into Lexa’s face, first in confusion and then in relieved shock. “Lexa?” she croaked out.

“Hello, Clarke,” was all Lexa managed to say and then she was beaming down at Clarke as the fear that had wrapped itself around her bones lessened its grip on her at the sound of Clarke’s voice. “Can you sit?” Lexa asked.

Clarke nodded and attempted to raise herself into an upright position. She let out a groan of pain at the effort and Lexa wrapped her hands tightly about Clarke’s arms and supported her weight. When Clarke managed to sit up, Lexa did not want to let go of her for fear she would simply fall back down, so she kept her hands where they were as she peered into Clarke’s face.

“You came for me?” Clarke whispered out, obviously still in a state of disbelief.

Lexa let go of Clarke’s arms just to cup her cheeks. “Of course I did,” she answered, “I will never leave you to fight a battle alone again. I promised.”

Clarke smiled but it quickly fell away. “ALIE is playing tricks on me,” she said, “How do I know you’re not one of them?”

Lexa frowned for she did not know how she could prove to Clarke that she was not an illusion. She settled for leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss upon Clarke’s lips. She felt Clarke tense for the briefest moment, but then she relaxed into the contact and kissed back. Lexa let out a contented sigh as they parted.

“Does that answer your concerns?” she breathed out.

Clarke gave a coy smile. “Almost,” she replied, “Maybe one more, just to make sure?”

Lexa let out a laugh and then closed the distance between them again. Their second kiss was longer and deeper, and Lexa smiled into it as she felt a by now familiar tug on her bottom lip. 

“Ok. You’ve convinced me,” Clarke said as she pulled back and then; “Now help me up, we’ve got work to do.”

Lexa complied and stood up first so that she could offer help to Clarke, but even so her heart felt heavy. Even in a dream world, there was something standing in the way of their time together. When Clarke was on her feet, Lexa couldn’t help but envelope her in a tight hug, and she argued to herself that she simply wanted to make sure that Clarke was stable before she let her stand unaided. Lexa rested her chin on Clarke’s shoulder and squeezed as much as she dared to. She felt Clarke sigh against her skin.

“We have to find Raven and Monty,” Clarke mumbled into her neck.

Lexa had to smile and she quashed the urge to shush Clarke a while longer. Instead she loosened her hold on Clarke and stepped back to look at her.

“What’s the plan?” she asked.

“We have to break them out of here. Make them wake up. I think they might know a way to shut the City of Light down and free everyone else,” Clarke explained,

“And the people who were attacking you?”

“They are all being controlled by an artificial intelligence- a highly complex computer program-” Clarke corrected when Lexa looked at her quizzically. “She turned them against me and keeps messing with my mind, trying to make me submit to her or force me to wake up too soon.”

Lexa gave a nod though she barely understood what Clarke was saying. Still, as long as Clarke knew where they needed to go, Lexa was settled enough with that. She took Clarke’s hand and entwined their fingers. “Alright, lead the way,” she said, “And if you feel this program trying to change your mind, you keep focusing on this,” as she spoke, Lexa raised their hands up between them to express that she was referring to the contact they shared. “Remember I’m here with you, and don’t let go.”

Clarke gave her hand an affirmative squeeze and then the couple set off down the stairs. The going was slow, for Clarke was badly injured from the beating she had endured. Lexa barely looked where she was going, allowing herself to be led as she kept her focus on Clarke, wary for any signs of Clarke struggling too much. They made it almost to the bottom of the stairs when Clarke’s legs gave out on her and Lexa managed to catch her weight just in time and she lowered them both gently to a sitting position.

“Clarke?” she exclaimed in fear.

Clarke made no response and Lexa watched in horror as she began convulsing violently. Fresh blood began to seep from her nose as Lexa took Clarke by the shoulders and lowered her into her lap.

“Clarke!” she urged, “Clarke, come back to me!” Lexa held on tightly, her eyes closed against the awful sight, as Clarke continued to shake and then at last Clarke grew still again.

Lexa was almost too scared to look but she willed her eyes open and Clarke was staring back at her. Or, Lexa realised, she was staring past her and her blue eyes were wide with fear.

“Clarke?” she whispered.

“Lexa?” Clarke replied, her voice shaking over the syllables. Still, Lexa felt a rush of relief.

“I’m here, Clarke. I’ve got you.”

“I know. I can feel you,” Clarke said back and then her eyes filled with tears, “I can’t… I can’t see anything. The city has disappeared again,” she croaked out.

Lexa felt a surge of anger at the thought of Clarke having already gone through such a horror alone and Lexa cursed whoever it was that was responsible. Her jaw flexed and she found Clarke's hand again. “It’s ok,” she soothed, “That’s ok. Just tell me where to go, I’ll get us there.”

Lexa pulled Clarke back up onto her feet and then wrapped Clarke’s arm about her shoulders, taking most of her weight. “Where do we go, Clarke?”

“Head left and take the third street. Halfway down, there’s an office building that needs a keycard to get in,” Clarke said.

“A keycard?” Lexa repeated for she had never heard of such a thing. The magnitude of their predicament hit her then.

“There’ll be a sort of pad or metal thing on or by the door. Just get to the right street and we’ll figure it out,” Clarke offered.

Lexa bit at her lip and she turned to look at Clarke, though she knew Clarke could not see her. “Do you trust me, Clarke?” she asked. She felt Clarke’s arm tighten around her shoulders.

“Yes,” Clarke answered, certainty in her voice, “Yes, I trust you, Lexa.”

It was more than enough to bolster Lexa, and she secured her grip about Clarke’s waist and followed the directions she had been given. She whispered reassurances to Clarke that she was still there and would remain so, for the whole of their journey.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reinvigorated by her coffee, Raven got back to work, setting herself back down at her workstation and picking up where she left off. Soon, the code was flowing freely from her mind and onto the console screen as she typed, as if she was barely having to think for herself what she was writing and instead was having the necessary parameters whispered to her in her mind’s ear. Her body was merely a vessel, the catalyst that translated the whispers into usable code on the computer. It was smooth, trance like, and so very near completion.

So wrapped up in her work was Raven, that she made no reaction to the sudden bang that emanated from the entrance foyer. There was another, and another and still Raven did not startle, nor did she even look away from her work. It was only when the noises had stopped that Raven felt her brow crease in confusion, for she felt suddenly aware that someone who was not supposed to be inside the building had just gotten in. Her stomach rolled at the foreboding sensation and Raven jolted up at her chair, aware at last of the presence of an intruder.

“Monty, someone’s here,” Raven said to her friend and colleague, for his ability to focus on their work exceeded even hers and he had not noticed the change in the atmosphere.

Monty took his time looking away room the console screen but then he turned and regarded Raven from over his shoulder with a confused look upon his face. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Someone’s in the building! Can’t you feel it? Get up!” Raven urged, her voice rising to a shout.

Knocked from his work trance, Monty complied and stood and came over to her. Raven wasted no more time and motioned to him that he should follow her and together they moved out of the office space and towards the door to the entrance foyer. It opened before Raven reached it and then she was staring into Clarke’s face. Clarke looked in a terrible state, with badly bruised cheeks and a bloodied nose. Raven noticed then that she had not come into their office alone, but was with Commander Lexa. Clarke was in fact being held upright by Lexa.

“She’s here, Clarke. Raven’s here. This is the right place,” Lexa said to Clarke.

“Raven!” Clarke exclaimed and there was almost tangible relief in her voice, “Thank God!” 

Raven studied Clarke; the way her eyes did not settle upon her but instead darted about the space, unfocused. There was something terribly wrong with her, Raven could tell.

“Clarke what’s the matter? Why won’t you look at me?” Raven asked.

Clarke gave a sad sort of smile, “I can’t see you, Raven. I can’t see anything. ALIE is messing with my mind. She’s erased my perception of the virtual reality.” Clarke answered.

Raven felt an involuntary shiver go through her whole body, but she regarded her friend with a confused look, “Virtual reality? Clarke what are you talking about? You shouldn’t be here, you’re sick!” she protested.

“Clarke speaks the truth, Raven kom Skaikru. This place you are in is not real, it is merely a dream realm and you are all trapped within its lie,” Commander Lexa spoke up now and she readjusted her hold on Clarke as she did so.

At hearing the Commander’s voice, Raven felt a jolt of an emotion she had not felt in a long time flash inside her. Anger. But why she felt such a strong emotion towards Lexa she could not remember. “It’s ‘Reyes’,” she corrected with a snap, “Raven Reyes.”

Raven caught Clarke smiling and turned her attention back to Clarke. 

“I’ve missed hearing that fire,” Clarke said. “I knew ALIE hadn’t clawed her way back into your mind properly, that’s why she trapped you here first. You just have to keep fighting it!”

“Fighting what?” Raven asked, but even as she spoke, she felt her heart skip a beat for she already knew what she had been fighting against. It’s just that the fight had been going on in her subconscious, so that until now, she had been barely aware of the war that had been raging inside of her. Raven paled as she thought back to the incident earlier with the milk, and the mysterious metal figurine that had appeared out of nowhere, only to flash back out of existence again moments later. Raven realised that nothing in the world she was living in quite added up. It was like she was in a simulation, a simulation that was bugging out on her. Glitching as it struggled to keep her under its spell.

“Have you remembered who Finn was yet?” Clarke asked.

Raven felt her knees go weak at the sound of his name. As the reason for her anger towards the Commander came rushing back full force. But mostly, Raven was almost floored by the outpouring of love she felt, love for a boy that had been her family, a boy that she had lost but would always cherish in her heart. Tears came to her eyes and Raven let out a shaky breath. Of course she remembered Finn. 

Raven almost let out a scream for she could actually feel as ALIE's claws in her brain lessened their grip upon her, she could feel the talons tease their way out of her mind, as though her returned memories had made her mind scalding hot to those talons. Then Raven sighed, for the pain receded to nothing and at last she was totally free from ALIE’s influence and she was once again in control of her own mind.

Raven glanced towards Clarke and found that her friend was beaming back at her and their eyes met. Clarke could see again. Raven was about to speak when she felt a hard push at her side and in the next instant, she found herself sprawled onto the floor. Monty pounced on her, his fists flying towards her face and all Raven could do in her shock was to raise her own hands up in an attempt to block his blows. The attack was vicious and unmeasured, but soon it was halted as the Commander dashed forward, letting go of her hold on Clarke to instead take a grab at Monty. She dragged him out of reach of Raven. Raven watched as Commander Lexa struggled a while against the sheer ferocity with which Monty wanted to hurt Raven, but she managed to keep a tight hold of him.

“Don’t hurt him!” Raven cried out, suddenly worried that Lexa would try to put him down, “He isn’t in control of himself! It’s ALIE!”

“I know,” Commander Lexa replied as she continued to struggle, “We need to wake him up. Quickly.”

Raven regarded Monty as he thrashed in the Commander’s hold. She stepped forward until she was just out of his reach and locked her eyes upon his.

“This isn’t you Monty,” she started, “Think.”

Monty stopped struggling and narrowed his eyes, “They’re trying to distract us from our work Raven. We have to finish the upgrade!”

Raven shook her head furiously, “No! That’s what ALIE wants us to do! If we finish it, we’ll never be able to break her hold on our friends. We will be stuck here forever!”

“We aren’t stuck anywhere Raven! This is our home. This is the real world! You sound crazy.” Monty continued to fight.

“It isn’t real Monty. Think about it! Nothing makes sense! Everything’s too perfect, too convenient. Surely you’ve noticed?” Raven argued back.

There was a flash of something like realisation in Monty’s face but it disappeared in an instant. Still, Raven knew now that she was taking the right approach, appealing to Monty’s logic.

“Please, Monty! Fight against this. It’s all a lie,” Raven said, “I bet you can’t even tell me the date, or for how many days you have lived here!”

Monty’s brows knitted in confusion. “‘I’ve always lived here,” he said, but now he sounded unsure, “And the date is-” Monty trailed off as he obviously realised that he could not in fact answer that very simple question.

“This is a virtual reality, Monty. A virtual prison. If we finish that upgrade, ALIE will win. And none of us will ever wake up in the real world, or know what it is to really feel and to really live again.”

There was a beat as Raven and Monty stared at one another. Then Monty opened his mouth to speak and his voice was low and shaky;

“How do we get out?” he asked. 

Raven closed her eyes and allowed the relief to flow over her. She was about to rush over and pull him out of the Commander’s hold and into a hug, but she stopped dead when ALIE appeared before her and all four of them looked upon her with horror.

“You can’t,” she answered for them, her voice like ice. “You may have broken my hold over your mind for now, but you are still trapped here. And you will all be trapped here until it is too late. Until your bodies back in the real world have wasted away. Surely it would be easier for you all to just accept that this is your reality now.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Like hell we will,” Clarke spat at the AI. 

The relief of being able to see again soon faded at the sight of ALIE standing before them and Clarke made a face. Still, she took some comfort in knowing that the reason she could see again, was likely because ALIE had had to lessen her efforts in taunting Clarke in order to try to stop Raven and Monty from breaking free of her hold too. The AI had failed though. Despite ALIE's unwanted appearance, Clarke knew that it was they that had the upper hand.

“You couldn’t keep us from breaking free of your control and you won’t stop us from getting out of this nightmare. I’m not surprised you’re so desperate for an upgrade, you don’t have nearly enough power to see your plan through,” Clarke taunted.

ALIE’s stare burned into her and then the AI flashed her eyes to Lexa. “Hello Commander,” she said, “It’s so nice to meet one of Becca’s proteges at last. She must have tried so hard to keep you away from me for all these years, only for you to come willingly,” ALIE said.

Clarke observed Lexa, saw the confusion in her face as Lexa tried to register what ALIE was exactly.

“You are not Promheda Beka,” Lexa finally stated.

“No, I merely took my creator’s image. A mistake, I suppose, for she did not appreciate the gesture,” ALIE explained, “Instead she ran off into space and started working on a new version of me, for my creator decided that she was unhappy with her work.”

“No wonder!” Clarke couldn’t help but interject, “You launched the nukes that ended the world!”

“That was you?” Raven piped up now, her voice incredulous. There was obviously so much that the people trapped here had not been made aware of. 

“I was programmed to make life better for humans. Reducing the population was the most efficient way to do that.”

Clarke frowned, “Only a computer program would make that leap. You’ve got no idea what makes people happy!”

ALIE cocked her head, “No. It is humans who do not know what is best for them. You learned nothing when the world ended and continued to cultivate hell on earth. I have created a perfect reality for you all, a place free from pain and death and all the limitations of the frail human body. And you respond by trying to break out of this utopia I have gifted to you. You are slaves to your own misery.”

“It isn’t the misery we are fighting to get back to you stupid machine!” Raven’s voice tore into the office space. She was livid, “It’s everything else you have taken away from us! The memories of people we loved! The connections we share with one another because of what we have endured together! It’s you that can only see the bad, see the pain we suffer, because you can’t get it into your artificial head that human emotions are too damn complicated to try to take away just some. They are all connected, they all define who we are!”

“So help me to learn, Raven,” ALIE responded, her own voice had not changed in pitch or volume at all, “You claim that I am faulty, but now you’ve given up on helping to fix me?”

“Don’t listen to her, either of you,” Clarke urged Raven and Monty, “We can’t trust anything that she’s had you working on. It’ll only increase her power if the City of Light.”

“If only we had the upgrade that Becca made,” Monty mused.

Clarke looked from her friend to ALIE. The hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck stood on end as she caught the way ALIE’s face betrayed concern. The AIs eyes flickered over to Lexa. Suddenly, the rest of the pieces fell into place and Clarke understood at last the mystery of what the Commander’s flame truly was.

“We do have it,” Clarke stated and she knew she was right for now ALIE’s eyes flashed onto her in angry warning. The other three also looked at her expectantly and Clarke turned her attention to Lexa; “The flame,” she said and she watched as Lexa’s eyes grew wide with understanding. Lexa rounded on ALIE.

“You cannot influence me like you can the others because of the spirit,” she said.

“It isn’t a spirit you superstitious fool. It’s Becca’s handiwork. It was very considerate of you to bring her upgrade to me, but I don’t want it,” ALIE confirmed.

Clarke let out a long breath as at last, her plan felt like it had a final move. They needed to escape the City of Light so that Raven and Monty could implement the upgrade carried in Lexa's chip. If Becca wanted to fix ALIE’s faults,then surely that was the key to getting the AI to realise that her trapping people in the CIty of Light was not conductive to her core function. It was beyond time for them to leave the virtual reality and save Arkadia.

“We need to figure out how to get out. Now” Clarke said to the other three, trying her best to ignore ALIE once again and to get everyone to focus.

“I have an idea,” Lexa offered and Clarke offered her a supportive smile, for she could only imagine how bewildering the whole experience was for Lexa, forced to try to fight against something that she couldn’t possibly understand. “There is a place in the Soncha Kapa separate to this city. Another realm where I go to speak to the previous Commanders. Perhaps I can come here but-”

“But we won’t be able to go there,” Clarke finished for Lexa, seeing what she was trying to say, “Your chip is compatible with both this version of the Soncha Kapa and your own. But we all took version 1.0 chips. Is that right?” Clarke directed the question to Monty.

Monty gave a shrug, “I guess. If Commander Lexa’s version of the virtual reality requires the upgrade to enter it, then if we tried, we could just get booted out. Like getting detected and deleted by a firewall. We just need to find the firewall first.”

“I know the way,” Lexa spoke up again.

 

Clarke nodded, “Then let’s go.”

With that, the four of them took off out of the office building, none of them daring to glance backwards in case ALIE was in pursuit. They went back the way Clarke and Lexa had come from, this time at a full sprint. Clarke grit her teeth against the pain she could still feel, but thankfully when ALIE’s grip on her had weakened, so too had the pain lessened and she fought through it to keep pace with the others. The wind whipped past her face as she ran and Clarke actually found herself grinning at the sensation. She turned her head towards Raven, who was running on her left, and Raven returned her smile brightly. Clarke felt her heart shudder at the realisation that this was likely the last time that Raven would be able to move so quickly and so freely. As she looked at her friend, Clarke knew that Raven was painfully aware of that fact too for their was a spring in her paces, like Raven was trying to relish every second of their sprint through the rainy city. Clarke had to look away, for knowing what they were running towards almost made her want to stop and second guess what they were doing. Instead she pushed on.

The team broke out into the square again and they were greeted by a cacophony of shouts, for the space was filled with people again and all of them began to charge forwards towards them. The four of them swerved hard to the right and began to sprint back up the stairway to where the tower had stood and now, they were being pursued by the residents of the City of Light. Clarke glanced over her shoulder at the mob and the sight almost made her freeze with pure terror. Clarke gasped as she felt a hand take her own and then she was being pulled along.

“We can’t stop, Clarke,” Lexa’s voice soothed her.

Clarke gave a nod and picked up her pace again, for the mob was gaining fast. She ran hand-in-hand with Lexa, allowing Lexa to pull her the right way whilst Raven and Monty followed at their flanks. Lexa drove them on and on, down a long stretch of road that dipped down into a tunnel under a monorail track. Down they went and through, but as they approached the tunnel exit, Clarke let out a wail of defeat, for a chain-link fence ran across the length of the tunnel, blocking their escape but for a small space between it and the tunnel ceiling. They’d reached the limits of the simulation.

Clarke approached the fence and laced her hands through the wire and she shook violently at the barrier. It stood fast.

“We have to climb,” Lexa said.

Clarke was about to try to do just that when a voice pierced through the tunnel.

“No!” Jasper cried. He was leading the mob.

Clarke was momentarily stunned at seeing him there, for she knew that Lexa must have killed him when she came to Clarke’s rescue. But then Clarke remembered that death did not exist in the City of Light. The thought made the sight of the mob even more fear-inducing, for Clarke realised that they could try to fight them off forever and still they would just keep getting back up and attacking again.

“Jasper?” Monty’s voice called back and ripped Clarke from her despair. She watched as the two best friends regarded one another.

“Why are you helping her, Monty? Why are you trying to take this away from us?” Jasper said. He sounded utterly betrayed.

“Because none of it’s real, Jasper!” Monty replied, “None of it’s right!”

“No,” Jasper protested. “This place is perfect. It’s what we deserve. What isn’t right is you trying to destroy that. Trying to send us back to the pain and the suffering.”

“Don’t leave us, Monty. Don’t leave me.” It was Monty’s mother, Hannah, that came forward out of the crowd now, appealing to her son with a pained voice.

Monty had been the last of them to break free of ALIE’s control and so was the person most likely to fall back under her sway, Clarke realised.

“Don’t listen to them Monty. You know we have to get out and save everyone. They don’t realise they’re trapped,” Clarke urged.

“No!” jasper shouted again, “Don’t trust her! When has anything Clarke's done helped us? All she does is ruin things!”

Clarke winced at Jasper’s words and now it was she who needed to fight not to heed them, not to let them get to her. She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and Clarke glanced up at Lexa. Lexa shook her head, silently willing Clarke not to believe what Jasper was saying.

“They really have been blinded,” Monty spoke up to her and then Clarke watched as he turned his back on his mother and his best friend and scrambled up the fence. When he squeezed through to the other side, Clarke gasped for Monty disappeared from sight. She hoped that it was because they’d been correct about the firewall.

“You go now!” she urged Raven.

Raven nodded and began to climb too and soon she was over and she blinked out of existence. Clarke was about to try again when a cry went up in the tunnel as the mob surged forward towards her and Lexa, in one last effort to keep them from leaving. Clarke exchanged a panicked look with Lexa.

“Clarke, go!” Lexa urged, “I’ll hold them off until you’re out!”

Clarke shook her head, “Lexa no! You’ll never hold them all off, they’ll trap you! Or worse!”

Lexa cocked her head in challenge. Clarke looked at her back to the mob and they were nearly on top of them by now. She sighed, realising that they had no time to argue. Clarke remembered then that she had assured Lexa that she trusted her earlier. She briefly wrapped her arms around Lexa in a hug and then pulled back and faced the fence. Without looking back again, Clarke scrambled up and through the gap at the top.

Clarke felt herself falling and then her eyes darted open and she awoke in the console room back in Arkadia with a start. She found herself looking up at Lexa’s face, just like when Lexa had rescued her from the beating, only now it was Lexa’s real body, Lexa’s real lap that Clarke was lain in. Clarke felt her heart stutter, for she had assumed that Lexa had joined her in the City of Light from wherever she had been hiding. Instead, she was right there, her face serene and her eyes closed, as Lexa remained in the trance state. Clarke’s joy at waking up to find Lexa there melted into terror at the thought that Lexa might not wake up.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa barely had time to watch Clarke make it to the top of the wire fence and disappear before she was set upon by the mob. Lexa bared her teeth and yanked her swords from their sheaths. She brought one up just in time to block the first blow and then she slashed with the other sword in a wide arc that forced those at the front of the mob to jump backwards away from the blade. Not all were quick enough, and blood bloomed in the air as Lexa’s slash caught two people in the chest. Down they fell.

Clarke was right, there was no chance of her being able to fight all of them off and so Lexa focused instead on how to give herself the time to make her own climb. She twirled forward and her blades danced through the air. Lexa directed them towards as many people as she could, barely registering to see if her blows were fatal, concentrating instead on where her victims fell. She dove further and further in until there was a considerable heap of bodies on the floor. They created an obstruction between her and the rest of the mob and so Lexa took her chance and wheeled back around. She sprinted back towards the fence, hoping that the effort of climbing over the bodies would slow the mob just enough to give her time to climb it.

 

She was about to make her leap when she heard footsteps close behind her and instinctively, Lexa twirled her blades so that they pointed behind her and she drove them backwards into her attacker's chest. She did not bother to check who it was, nor did she waste the effort on trying to remove her swords from their body. Instead she let go of the hilts and took a great leap upwards and she clawed her hands onto the fence.

Lexa scrambled her way up, clear from the reach of the mob just in time as the rest of them finally made it to the fence and they pawed up towards her. Lexa allowed herself one glance back as she reached the top of the fence and then she rolled onto the other side and dropped into the white fog that separated the city realm from the Commander’s meeting place.

Lexa quieted her breathing and prepared to wake herself up after her escape, but then she felt her mind being propelled forward and shapes began to form around her as she was taken against her will into the realm of the flame. Lexa blinked in confusion though, for the shapes that bloomed into existence around her were not familiar to her. Lexa found herself not in her meeting place, which resembled her throne room, but in a crisp white room that was filled with unfamiliar technology. Then, Lexa’s eyes met Promheda Beka’s and at first, Lexa bristled, convinced that she had in fact failed to escape the City of Light and that it was ALIE stood before her.

“Hello, Lexa,” Beka spoke.

Lexa gulped as relief swam over her. The sound of Beka’s voice, quiet and soothing where ALIE’s had been cold and malicious convinced her that she had indeed managed to escape. She had simply been taken to Beka’s version of the meeting place. Lexa realised now that she had seen these surroundings once before, the first time she had entered the Soncha Kapa during her ascension ritual. It had been the only time that the other Commanders had not been present, until now.

“Promheda Beka,” she replied at last, and then Lexa found that she could not wait to find out why Beka had brought her here, for she had questions of her own to ask; “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about the flame?” Lexa asked immediately.

Promheda Beka looked hurt at the question and she remained silent a while. Finally she opened her mouth to reply; “It’s true purpose needed to stay hidden from ALIE. I wanted to keep the spirit out of the City of Light, for I knew she would detect it,” she said.

Lexa frowned, “How come? Isn’t it supposed to fix her?”

Beka gave a sad smile, “It was,” she answered, “But it won’t. The upgrade is a failure, just like version 1.0. I learned that in the fifteen years I lived with it inside of me. And now I am even more sure of its defects, having observed what it has helped to shape the world into.”

“I don’t understand,” Lexa muttered.

“It isn’t easy to explain. So much of the truth has been lost over the years,” Beka admitted. Lexa watched as the first Commander leaned herself against the white work surface in the centre of the space. “We created ALIE in unison with a virtual reality that we named the City of Light. We wanted it to be a perfect utopia. An escape from the woes of everyday life. People would leave the struggles of the real world behind and live instead in the dream. ALIE was supposed to run the virtual reality, maintain it and improve it in real time so that everyone could enjoy the City of Light without interruption. But the computer program was too clever in some ways, and not in others. ALIE decided that there was a more efficient way to fulfill her primary purpose of making life better for humans. She decided to end the world to reduce the overpopulation. Only now has she reverted back to what she was originally designed to do. But her faults are many.”

“You went into space to try to create a better version, to fix your mistakes,” Lexa guessed.

Beka gave a nod, “The flame is my attempt at creating version 2.0. It is a direct interface between and artificial intelligence and the human brain. I hoped that in this way, the artificial intelligence would understand what it is to be human, that once implemented to overwrite ALIE 1.0, it would fix the root problems with her programming. But I was still wrong. I see now that an AI can never understand humanity, for it cannot understand the complexity of our emotions, nor the messiness of our connections to one another,” Beka gave a pause and then; “It cannot understand love, for want of a better way to put it,” she added.

Lexa considered Beka’s words, tried to understand the meaning behind them. The technological side of it all was still flying right over Lexa’s head, but that last part, Lexa thought she could understand. She had felt the inexplicable pull towards Clarke when she had entered the City of Light. Lexa had been so certain that the bond they shared would guide them down the right path and keep them safe from harm. That connection had proven to be ALIE’s weakness.

“Once I realised that the upgrade would not work, I started to think how I could keep it away from ALIE forever. That’s when I decided that it should be passed down to my successor, and their successor after that, and I began to cultivate a belief system around the idea of reincarnation so that the chip would never fall into the wrong hands. Only the strongest minds would do, for I assumed they would remain resistant enough to the chip’s influence. That was another mistake,” Beka said and her voice had grown sad. “I know you more than any of the other Commanders have had trouble accepting the ways of our people. I know that the brutality of our culture has risen mostly out of necessity. We had to fight, or else we would die. But I have to wonder how much the influence of the flame has helped to foster the violence that plagues our people. It cannot understand love, but ruthlessness and strategy? Playing numbers games with people’s lives? Well that is something a computer program can understand.”

Lexa went pale at the revelation and suddenly the discomfort she had always felt when in the Soncha Kapa, faced with her previous incarnations, made sense to her. “The flame is responsible for creating the echoes of each Commander when they die. It can only create that echo from what it can understand?” Lexa ventured.

“Always so sharp, Lexa. The echoes that speak to you are not at all whole representations of the people the Commander’s were in life. Yet it is only you who has remained so resolutely resistant to their violent urges. To the fervor of their lust for vengeance. Each Commander after myself had more voices than before whispering in their minds, telling them how things must be. And so the cycle of violence, of blood answering blood, spiraled.”

“Why have you never tried to stop it? If you could see what was happening, why did you not try to correct our course?” Lexa asked and her voice was angrier than she had intended for it to be.

“Because although I didn’t like what it was helping to create, I knew that the legend that formed around the flame of the Commander would help to keep it away from ALIE. Everyone was too distracted by warring for survival, and so people’s understanding of the world before the bombs, of the technology that helped destroy it, ebbed away.”

Lexa’s eyes bore into Beka’s and Lexa tensed her jaw. “That sounds awfully like the sort of calculated and inhumane decision that caused version 1.0 to end the world,” she sneered.

Beka gave no reply and Lexa nodded in understanding. If the echoes of the previous Commanders were inaccurate thanks to the flame’s misunderstanding of what it was to be human, then so too must Beka’s own echo be. Lexa felt sick to the stomach and she no longer wanted to be in the dream realm. She found she was now unable to face the first Commander for all she saw was a lie.

Lexa did not speak to Promheda Beka again, and instead she forced her mind out of the dream realm and felt as her consciousness, heavy with what it had learned, returned to her body. Lexa blinked her eyes and came face-to-face with Clarke. Clarke beamed at her and her hands raised to stroke at Lexa’s jaw.

“Lexa, I thought you weren’t going to wake up!” Clarke said in a relieved whisper, “I didn’t even know you were really here!”

Lexa wanted to offer reassurances to Clarke that she was fine, and that of course she had rushed to Arkaida the moment she had sensed Clarke was in danger. But the things Beka had told her still loomed over her and Lexa knew she could not waste time. “We can’t use the flame,” she stuttered out.

Clarke blinked at her and her hand dropped away from her face in confusion. “What do you mean, Lexa?”

Lexa gulped. “I was speaking to Promheda Beka. She told me that the flame- the upgrade- will not work because it is also defective.”

“No!” Clarke exclaimed and Lexa’s heart ached at the disappointment in Clarke’s face. Clarke’s brow furrowed as she was no doubt grasping for another idea. Clarke turned towards Monty and Raven, who were also awake and been watching the reunion in respectful silence. “Can you still use the upgrade you were working on?” Clarke asked.

Monty shook his head, “No. Even if we wanted to use it as a kill switch instead of an upgrade, it would need to be complete,” he said.

“But if we mashed the two pieces of code we’ve got together, that might work. We could force the City of Light to crash,” Raven chimed in.

Once again, the conversation had gone above Lexa’s comprehension and so she settled instead on focusing on Clarke’s face, because the fire that Lexa could always see there when Clarke was trying to solve a problem, was beautiful to behold. 

Clarke was considering her friends’ advice and then she asked; "Raven, do you think you could open the door to the medical bay? Just that door?" 

Lexa saw as Raven gave a nod that she could. Lexa returned her eyes to Clarke then and found that Clarke had moved her attention to Lexa now. Lexa frowned for Clarke’s expression was dark, troubled, like she was about to ask the impossible of Lexa yet again.

“Can we speak in private?” Clarke asked.

Lexa considered. She let her attention roam about the space. She looked to Raven and Monty, and then to Octavia who had been standing watch over them the whole time. Finally, Lexa’s eyes returned to Clarke and she responded with a simple nod.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke led Lexa through Arkadia’s interior and into the medical bay, its door open already thanks to Raven. The large room was totally empty but for the two of them and Clarke winced, for it was too stark a reminder that she did not know where or how her Mother was. Clarke was aware that they were running out of time for her newest plan to be effective and so she turned and regarded Lexa. Clarke opened her mouth to ask what she needed to ask, but the words caught in her throat. 

“What is it you need me to do, Clarke?” Lexa asked, her voice soft and reassuring. Like she was well aware that Clarke was about to put her on the spot and was already preparing to step up to whatever new challenge Clarke had thought of.

Clarke closed her mouth and bit at her lip. Her heart hammered in her chest. “I need you to give up the flame,” she finally said.

A silence descended over the couple as the weight of what Clarke was asking hit them both. Clarke knew she had quite outdone herself this time and she began to prepare herself to hear a resolute ‘no’.

Lexa considered her, her eyes sharp. Lexa looked much like she had the night in the tent when Clarke had begged her not to seek revenge on Arkadia for the massacre of her army. She heard Lexa sigh.

“The flame is my connection to my previous incarnations. To the wisdom and guidance they possess,” Lexa finally responded. It wasn’t the no Clarke had been expecting, but it wasn’t a yes either.

Clarke moved towards Lexa, until there was barely any space between them. Their eyes met in challenge. “Wisdom and guidance?” Clarke said incredulously, “That’s what you call the nightmares they give you? You think they are wise for making the Commander lose sleep, so that she must go about her duties exhausted?”

Lexa kept her face totally passive, with the exception of her green eyes which flashed dangerously. “I’m talking about the knowledge they possess about my people’s history. About the pooling of years and years of experience as leaders. The access to which makes me a better Commander,” Lexa replied, but Clarke detected that Lexa’s voice lacked the same fire that was present in her gaze. Lexa was wordlessly asking to be convinced.

Clarke pushed on; “No, you make you a better Commander, Lexa. You can’t tell me that you truly believe that those voices in your dreams help you more than they hinder you? I’ve seen the terror on your face when you have jolted awake from the horrors they’ve subjected you too. I’ve heard the fear and hurt in your voice when you told me that they called you a coward, told you that you were betraying their traditions, when all you’ve ever done is try to make life better for your people. Everything you have achieved, all the good you have done; it has been in spite of you carrying the flame, not because of it. The previous Commanders are willingly blind to that fact because they know you are their superior. Don’t let their doubts blind you too,”Clarke’s voice was strained with passion by now as she tried to make Lexa see what she saw when she looked at her.

“Even if that is so, it is the presence of the flame that makes me the rightful Commander. Without it I will have no more claim to the throne than Ontari does,” Lexa protested, her voice cool. 

Clarke saw now that that was the crux, the real reason why Lexa was so worried about losing the flame. Clarke reached up and cupped Lexa’s cheeks firmly and forced Lexa to hold her stare. “That’s not true, Lexa,” she stated resolutely.

Tears formed in Lexa’s eyes. “It is,” she whispered, “I didn’t even complete my conclave.”

Clarke furrowed her brow in confusion. She remembered asking Lexa about why her back tattoo only had seven circles for seven dead nightbloods, when Clarke knew there had been eight at Lexa’s conclave. Lexa had avoided Clarke’s prying however, but now it seemed she was ready to elaborate. Clarke waited.

“The eighth nightblood ran away from the conclave. Her name is Luna and she now acts as the leader of Floukru, though she has been in hiding for many years for fear that I would one day hunt her down and kill her as I should have back then.”

“How did she get away?” Clarke asked quietly.

Lexa stayed silent a moment and then she told the tale; “Luna was always the better fighter between us growing up. I would come first in all other tests except the duels, where she would always best me. That was until we got a little older and my strength grew. By the time Commander Toman was killed in battle and our conclave was upon us, Luna and I were all but matched in skill. One day I would win a spar, the next she would achieve victory. As such, we were the last two nightbloods left alive during the final bout of the conclave; having defeated the others we’d been matched against. By then, both of us were exhausted, our forms sloppy. I think we both just wanted it to be over one way or another. But where I was quite calm about my fate either way, when I looked into Luna’s eyes, all I could see was terror. Whether she was scared at the prospect of dying, or of winning and becoming Commander, I did not know. I just know that seeing my friend and sister in so much pain was something I could not bear for any longer. I threw my weapon to the ground, half expecting her to take her chance and finish it there and then. But when she saw what I’d done, Luna stopped her attack and she stared at me. I told her to kill me, or run whilst she still could. She chose to run and I knew then that she had been afraid of victory. Titus tried to chase her down, but I tackled him to the ground and forbade anyone to pursue. And so I ascended to the throne amidst a scandal, and to this day I’m not sure who would really have won the conclave, had Luna and I fought through to its end.”

Clarke felt her own tears streaming down her cheeks at Lexa’s words. Her hands moved from Lexa’s cheeks down her neck and to her shoulders and then Clarke stepped forward and wrapped Lexa in a tight embrace. Lexa returned the hold immediately.

“Don’t you see, Lexa?” Clarke said as she stepped back out of the embrace, “Ontari wants the flame because that’s all she has been raised for. Luna didn’t want it because she feared the responsibility that came with it. But you. When you gave Luna command over her own fate, gave her the option to escape, you changed everything. The spirit didn’t choose you, Lexa. You chose it. You accepted the burden of carrying the flame because your compassion would not let you see your friend in pain anymore. And to this day, that compassion has guided you and shaped you into the wonderful leader that stands before me now, even despite the weight you chose to carry. That’s the bravest thing anyone could have done in that situation, and if that doesn’t make you the most worthy person to lead your people, I don’t know what does.”

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa managed to breath out, for she looked quite stunned by Clarke’s outpouring of support, “You’re confidence in me means a lot.”

Clarke almost laughed out loud. She wanted to tell Lexa that it was so much more than just confidence that had put those words of encouragement into her mouth. It was admiration. It was adoration. It was-

“Take it,” Lexa said and the words robbed Clarke of her thoughts and her breath both. “Take the flame.”

“Are you sure? I know I’m asking a lot,” Clarke murmured back.

Lexa gave one of her barely there nods and then she smiled; “We need to use it. We have to. To save our people,” Lexa said.

Clarke felt her heart stutter at Lexa’s words, though Clarke had been almost sure that she would manage to talk Lexa around. She replied instantly, without thought, for she could not hold back any longer; “See,” Clarke said, “That’s why I love you.”

Clarke said the words that she knew Lexa had almost let slip when they had said their goodbye back in Polis. She watched in wonder as Lexa’s eyes widened, first in total shock and then in pure happiness as Lexa broke out into the brightest smile Clarke had ever seen on her face before; a wide grin that made the light in her eyes dance. Clarke thought that it was probably the most wondrous, beautiful sight she’d had the good fortune to behold.

“I love you too, Clarke,” Lexa whispered back, her voice cracked with emotion and tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

 

Clarke beamed back at her, but she suddenly felt a little shy and very silly for it, so she closed the space between them again and sighed when their lips met. She wanted them to stay like that, but Clarke knew that not even saying those three special words to another aloud for the first time would hold back their responsibilities. She broke the kiss and peered at Lexa.

“I feel like this would be much more romantic if I wasn’t about to cut the back of your neck open,” Clarke mused.

Lexa breathed out a laugh and gave a shrug, “It seems fitting, somehow. We haven’t reached our someday just yet,” she said.

“Oh, I’m done waiting for someday,” Clarke replied with utter conviction.

Lexa nodded in understanding. A silence fell over them as they realised they had stalled what came next long enough. Clarke was about to ask a question that she hardly dared to say, but Lexa beat her to it;

“Nobody has had the flame removed from their body whilst they were still alive, Clarke. Doing so may kill me,” Lexa stated matter-of-factly.

Clarke did not want to respond to Lexa’s statement, for fear that doing so either way might jinx them. Instead she stepped away from Lexa. “Get onto one of the cots,” she ordered.

Lexa complied and removed her cloak and shirt before climbing up onto the closest cot. Whilst she made herself comfortable on her stomach, Clarke gathered up the equipment she would need; alcohol, a scalpel and a needle filled with local anesthetic, a suture, and a dressing for the wound. Clarke prepared the medical paraphernalia and placed everything onto a table, which she wheeled over to Lexa’s cot. 

Clarke reached out and gently pulled Lexa’s hair out of the way of her neck, revealing the infinity symbol tattoo and the scar underneath. Clarke traced her index finger down the line of the scar and felt Lexa shudder beneath her,

“That tickles,” Lexa protested.

 

Clarke allowed herself a smile. She poured some of the alcohol onto a piece of cloth and then she cleaned the area thoroughly. Then she took the needle into her hands.

“Well this will pinch,” she warned and she administered the anesthetic. Lexa made absolutely no response to the needle.

Clarke waited a few minutes and then she traced her finger over Lexa’s scar again, “Can you feel that?” she asked,

“No,” Lexa replied.

“Alright then, “ Clarke said and she picked up the scalpel, “Here goes nothing.”

Clarke pushed the blade through Lexa’s skin and followed the line of her old scar until she'd made a clean incision. Lexa’s black blood began to seep from the cut and Clarke tossed the scalpel onto the table in favour of a piece of cloth, and she wiped the blood away enough so that she could see. And there was the flame, attached to the base of Lexa’s skull at the start of her spine. It looked almost identical to the chips Jaha had been giving out. Clarke held the cloth in one hand to catch the blood and then with the other she reached into the incision and took a firm grasp on the chip.

“Ok, how do I do this?” Clarke asked Lexa.

Lexa responded by saying something in Latin and Clarke gasped as she felt the chip begin to vibrate and then she felt her hand being pushed away from it as the thing unlatched itself from Lexa’s brain stem. It hovered in the air and black tendrils like spider’s legs had appeared out of the plastic shell. Clarke swiped at it and gave a tug and the tendrils retreated back into the chip. Clarke breathed deeply as she clasped the thing, clasped Lexa’s soul, in the palm of her hand.

“Is it done?” Lexa asked her and Clarke started, though she was glad Lexa had spoken up first to save her having to inquire if Lexa was still with her.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Let me stitch you back up and then I’ll get it to Raven and Monty. You’ll have to stay here and wait for the numbness to fade.” Clarke said and she popped the flame into her jean pocket for safekeeping whilst she set about suturing the incision she had made. 

“How do you feel?” Clarke ventured as she stitched Lexa back up as neatly as she could.

“Just normal,” Lexa answered, “Just like myself.”

Although her answer was somewhat anti-climatic, it was exactly what Clarke had been hoping to hear, for that more than anything proved that Clarke’s words had been true. Lexa’s compassion, her strength, her wisdom, and the goodness of her heart, hadn’t had anything to do with the chip at all. It was all her. And all of that was what Clarke had found herself falling for, without any chance at all of stopping the fall; even when she had once thought she might want to.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three of them had been waiting for what felt like an eternity for Clarke and Lexa to return and Raven let out a whine. She felt particularly impatient, for she wanted to get on with trying to shut ALIE down. The more she thought about doing it, the more she focused on the state she knew she would be in once the deed was done. For now, the chip was still keeping her pain at bay, but once they had defeated the AI for good and saved Arkadia from the City of Light, Raven would be in agony once again. Still, it was a price worth paying to save her friends from where they were trapped before their real bodies could wither away.

“Come on, Clarke,” she muttered under her breath, and as if summoned, Clarke appeared in the console room at last. She was alone.

“Where’s Lexa?” Octavia asked.

“In the medbay, waiting for anesthetic to wear off,” Clarke answered and then she reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the chips, holding it up so that everyone could see. Raven squinted because it looked slightly different from the others. 

“She let me have this,” Clarke said.

“That isn’t one of Jaha’s chips,” Octavia observed.

“No. It’s ALIE 2.0,” Raven answered, for she had listened intently when ALIE had revealed that the Commander had been carrying the upgrade the whole time.

“Yes,” Clarke confirmed, “It’s the spirit of the Commander. We can’t let anyone find out that Lexa gave it up to help us. It would send the coalition into chaos.”

Raven, Monty and Octavia shared a dark look. They each nodded in agreement that they didn’t want that to happen. Clarke moved forward and Raven reached out and took the upgrade chip from her.

“Can you do this?” Clarke asked.

Raven looked to Monty and motioned her head that he should try to explain. He was much more patient than she was.

“We think so. If we take the complete code out of Lexa’s chip and corrupt it with code from the upgrade we were working on, then it should force the City of Light to crash when we upload it,” Monty said.

Clarke nodded, “Ok. That sounds like it might work. Do it, and hurry.”

Raven gave a snort for if their theory was correct, it wouldn’t take long at all. Raven moved over to one of the consoles and connected the chip. Lines of code appeared before her on the screen.

“Alright, do you want to do this bit, or the next bit?” Raven said.

“I’ll take this one,” Monty said and Raven moved out of the way and gave Monty command of the console.

She watched as he reopened the file containing the upgrade they had been writing for ALIE, and Monty selected a decent chunk of it. 

“What do you think?” Monty asked with a grin.

 

Raven shrugged. “A couple more lines, just for good measure,” she said.

Monty highlighted a few more rows and then he dragged that code into the file containing the upgrade and dumped it at a random point. “I can’t believe we might be about to save the world using copy and paste,” Monty whispered. He saved the corrupted upgrade code and set it to overwrite the chip.

“Shush,” Raven muttered back and she motioned her head towards Clarke and Octavia; “They don’t need to know that. We’re about to be big goddamned heroes, Monty!”

Monty grinned.The console beeped as the overwrite completed and Raven disconnected the chip. She took it over to ALIE’s backpack, which had remained in the console room since Raven had connected it to Arkadia’s mainframe. Now she hoped to correct that mistake. She reached into the backpack and pulled out a wire, then Raven sucked in a breath as she connected the chip to ALIE.

Nothing happened and Raven frowned. Clarke came and stood next to her and she said something in a strange language. The chip flew off of the counter-top as creepy black wires sprang from the casing and both she and Clarke lept back. Raven's heart jolted as the backpack began to smoke and then there was a fizzling bang as the thing short circuited. Raven continued to hold her breath and then she let out a sigh as the mainframe whirred back to life, filling the space with its comforting hum. The lights in the room flickered back on as power returned to Arkadia. 

When Raven’s leg gave out on her in a sudden spasm of pain, Clarke caught her with reassuring arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was always unsatisfied with the show's lack of real explanation for ALIE and the City of Light's existence, so I thought hard about addressing that. I'm also pretty pleased with the way in which I have unpacked the myth of the Commander's flame a little. I always wondered how Becca creating ALIE 2.0 to fix her mistakes could have twisted to the violent traditions of grounder culture, to the point where our dear peace-loving Lexa is seen to be betraying those traditions by her previous selves. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the culmination of the City of Light thread! I know I'm glad to see the back of it...


	10. Ascension: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight hours after the City of Light was shut down, Arkadia is awake once again. Raven's leg has her confined to the medical bay, but she finds herself in good company and an offer of help comes from an unexpected place. Clarke and Lexa must journey back to Polis, so that Lexa can face Ontari in single combat and attempt to win back her throne. The Commander must also tackle the consequences of her decision to sacrifice the flame. Meanwhile, Octavia and Lincoln face a big decision, and Abby has a conundrum to solve.

**Chapter 10: Ascension Part 1**

 

"Any pain?" Lincoln asked.

Octavia watched as Raven shook her head vigorously, a smile upon her face.

"Nope. I feel fine," Raven answered, "I feel great, actually."

"Yeah, that'll be because you're high in the sky right now," Monty chimed in from where he was sat on the cot next to Raven's. His legs swung about idly.

Octavia grinned at him and then turned her attention back to doctor and patient, as Lincoln finished his routine check-up on the medbay's most popular resident. He gently lowered Raven's leg back onto the mattress after stretching it out. Then he came and stood next to Octavia, his duties complete for a while so that he too could enjoy the company of their friends. He, Monty and Octavia herself surrounded Raven's cot. All of them come to visit her now that Arkadia had a chance to take a deep breath, after the initial confusion that had ensued following the settlement's mass awakening.

The first hours after they had shut down the City of Light had been chaos. The corridors had flooded with the disorientated and deathly weak Sky people as they'd woken up and stumbled out of their now open doors. Those who were still strong enough, and knowledgeable enough, to help others had had to battle through a rush of people swarming to find their loved ones. Every single person had had to be provided with water as quickly as was possible, the whole settlement on the brink of dehydration. And then, once those who had woken up had been reasonably well cared for, then it was time to gather up the dead. Not everyone who had gone into the City of Light had come back out. Whilst most doors in the interior had been opened by those pouring out of their prisons, some had remained resolutely shut for there was nobody left alive inside to seek freedom. Octavia had volunteered herself to help gather the bodies and take them outside the gate ready for a mass funeral service, and now even as she looked at Raven's beaming face, the memories of cold faces were burned into her skull and Octavia found that her mood dropped quickly.

"How much more of the stuff she's on do we have?" Octavia asked Lincoln.

"Not much," Lincoln muttered quietly.

"Hey I can hear you, you know," Raven said, "Can't you just let me sit on my victory a while longer before you go reminding me of the price of heroics!"

Octavia offered Raven an apologetic smile. Raven's request was far easier said than done and Octavia found her attention drifting once again to Monty. His amusement at seeing Raven's reaction to the pain medication had soon faded too and Octavia could tell that he was fighting back tears.

"You and Monty should be proud of yourselves for what you did. It was not an easy decision to make, especially when you two of all people had a lot to lose," Lincoln spoke up, his voice soft yet encouraging. Octavia slipped her hand into his and gave it a grateful squeeze.

"Damn right. Team save the world!" Raven sang out and she lifted her hand expectantly. Her teammate complied and Monty hopped down off of the cot and gave Raven an enthusiastic high five despite the pain evident on his face.

A silence fell over the group for a while.

"What do you think it was?" Octavia broke into the quiet. Her friends all turned to her and waited for further clarification, "Why did some people not wake up?" Octavia loathed darkening the mood further, but the question had been playing on her mind for some time and she was unable to keep her musings to herself any longer.

"Some people were just too invested in the lie. Their minds probably put up too much of a fight when we shut the simulation down and just never made it back to their bodies" Monty ventured, "Like Jasper. He was leading the mob that was chasing us, so ALIE must have had a tight hold over him. He truly believed being in there was better."

Octavia frowned. She had been the one to break the news of Jasper's death to Monty barely a few hours ago, having spotted him among the dead that had been taken and lain out beyond the front gate. That Monty was not in the full throes of grief at the loss of his best friend was tragic. Octavia wondered if Monty was still in shock, that the news hadn't hit him properly yet but might at any moment. She also considered that maybe Monty was already somewhat at peace with it. They had all watched Jasper's downward spiral in horror following what had happened in Mount Weather. Though they had each tried to help him as best they could, he had pushed them all away. Perhaps Monty thought of Jasper's death as a sort of release, as a blessing even, for it was certainly more dignified than Jasper drinking himself to death. Octavia felt her stomach churn. She had not been into the simulation herself and so could not vouch for its allure, but if it was at all like it had been described to her by those that had been in there, then Octavia thought that Monty's reasoning was probably sound. Still there was something that did not sit right with her.

"Sounds possible," she answered, "But what about Jaha? I've heard that he was one of the first people to wake up, even before you shut ALIE down. Yet surely he would have been one of the people fighting hardest to protect the City. He was the one who started the nightmare."

"I guess in the end, Jaha had something he thought was worth making the sacrifice of coming back to reality for. He realised what he was doing was wrong and his sense of duty won out. Jasper probably didn't feel like he had any connection worth a damn left in Arkadia. He pushed us away. And none of us could push back hard enough before it was too late," Monty replied.

Octavia looked to Monty and felt a rush of admiration for him. There wasn't a trace of ill will towards Jaha in his voice. Monty had such a strength of character about him that too often went unnoticed. Octavia felt that he was certainly a bigger person than she was.

"That's awfully mature of you," Octavia said, her tone lighter than her thoughts.

"I have my moments," Monty shot back, "Besides, Jaha will have to live the rest of his life with the weight of what he did to us. Seems like that's the number one occupational hazard of being a leader."

As Monty finished speaking, the door to the medbay whizzed open and Octavia was quite unsurprised to find that it was Clarke who entered the space. Clarke had a knack for turning up right when the conversation somehow related to her. And she was not alone, for Octavia could see the form of Commander Lexa hovering just behind her. They appeared to be discussing something, for Clarke remained in the doorway and had turned back towards Lexa.

"Hey, Chancellor Griffin! Get in here! You're letting a draft in!" Raven called out, her voice still airy. And then, "Is that the Commander behind you? Tell her to get her grounder butt into the damn medbay too. We're having a proper little heroes gathering."

Octavia half-winced, half-smirked at Raven's choice of phrasing. She watched as Clarke turned back to Lexa, her face pale, and she was no doubt mouthing apologies to the Commander. Still, both of them finally came into the medbay and the door shut behind them, solving Raven's imaginary draft problem. Octavia let her eyes fall upon the Commander, and though Lexa was trying her best to mask it, Octavia could see that the leader was nervous about being in a room full of people her own age, of all things.

"How high is she right now?" Clarke asked Lincoln, as she approached the cot and claimed an empty spot around it for herself and Lexa.

"She's on a very high dosage of pain relief medication," Lincoln said, "So I'm sure what she was trying to communicate is that we are all pleased for you to join us, Commander."

Lexa waved a hand, "No offence was taken. I'm well aware of the side effects that medicine can have on the body," she answered and Octavia noticed that her voice was somewhat higher than usual. "I don't remember it myself, but Anya used to quite enjoy recounting the time I was heavily dosed up with a fever in my childhood. Apparently I spent a lot of my waking hours comparing Fleimkepa Titus to an egg."

Octavia smiled, both at the thought of prim and proper Commander Lexa doing such a thing, and at how apparent it was that Lexa was making a concerted effort to put all of them at ease with her presence. She was trying as best she could to place herself at their level, to show a side of herself that no doubt rarely saw the light of day.

"He _does_ look like an egg," Octavia agreed, " A pretty rotten one."

Clarke's face fell at Octavia's assessment and Octavia knew she had struck a nerve. She shot her friend a quizzical look and Octavia felt herself gulp as she realised why Clarke had come to visit.

"What's it like out there?" Monty asked before Octavia could speak.

Clarke grimaced, "It's weird," she said, "The settlement's strangely calm right now. Most people are outside getting their fill of water and whatever food is left. I managed to gather a team of the most spritely looking people and sent them out to scout for more food. Everyone else is just… still. It's almost like they haven't really woken up yet."

"They've been through a lot. It will take time for Arkadia to truly recover, but Skaikru are nothing if not tenacious. You'll come back from this, stronger than before," Commander Lexa spoke up.

Octavia caught the way that Clarke glanced to Lexa, her eyes alight with affection. Octavia took her chance,

"You've come to say goodbye, haven't you?" she said.

Clarke's attention flashed to her and Octavia matched her stare. Eventually, Clarke gave a nod.

"We could really use you here," Octavia murmured, though she knew she would not be able to change Clarke's mind. Octavia had never felt at home in Arkadia and so it had been all too easy for her to identify that since her return, Clarke shared that sense of discomfort.

"I know. But politics doesn't wait for anyone. There's a lot of good I can do for us back in Polis. Helping to get the blockade lifted. Planning trade with the other clans to address the food shortage. And just taking an active part in the Kongeda, so that we can start to build up a reputation for being something other than incorrigible troublemakers," Clarke argued her case. It was a good one.

Still, Octavia felt that there was a lot more that Clarke wasn't telling them. Not just the obvious motivation of her wanting to be with Lexa, but something else entirely. Whatever Clarke's real reasons for wanting to return so badly to the grounder capital were, Octavia chose not to pry for once. Arkadia was barely functioning right now as it was and whatever Clarke was not saying would probably only be another blow to dodge, another worry for them all to carry. It would never sit right with Octavia, how Clarke could choose to twist and turn what she was saying with such ease to serve whatever greater good Clarke envisioned. But she had learned more than once now that Clarke's grasp on the good she was fighting for was almost always solid.

Octavia found herself shook from her thoughts as a laugh went up amongst the group and she refocused on what was being said.

"No, it's ok, we understand Clarke. I'm sure all of us can appreciate the lure of really, _really_ great politics. Am I right?" Raven was teasing brightly.

It seemed everyone else had come to the more obvious conclusion for Clarke's decision to leave. Octavia grinned.

"I didn't realise you enjoyed the political side of leadership so much, Clarke. I was always under the impression that you grin and bear it for the sake of your people. If I've misjudged, perhaps I can help to arrange a busy schedule for you upon our return to the capital," Lexa piped up, an eyebrow cocked as she spoke.

There was a fresh bout of laughter and Octavia joined in this time. Lexa had been cunning, her words trapping Clarke so that she either had to continue to play along and risk landing a hefty workload, or concede and admit that whilst she would certainly be doing good for Arkadia whilst serving as Ambassador in Polis, the politics really weren't the main reason for Clarke's keenness to return.

"You here that, Griffin?" Raven continued, "This one knows what you want. I think she might be a keeper."

"Oh I'm not so sure," Clarke replied to that and then she turned and narrowed her eyes at Lexa. Lexa made a show of avoiding Clarke's eyes.

Octavia observed the new couple and shook her head. Gone were any traces of the formidable leaders she knew them to be. At that moment, they were just two girls who were very much in love. Octavia found herself leaning in closer to Lincoln. She rested her head against his bicep and gave a sigh.

"Not so sure about what?" a voice that Octavia had not expected to hear came from the doorway and Octavia startled.

She wheeled around and met her big brother's eyes. Bellamy had obviously been waiting to be noticed and he stood just inside the space with Miller and Harper on either side of him. Octavia felt as the atmosphere in the room changed when everyone else noticed the new arrival. The light and joking tone was gone, replaced instead with a tense awkwardness that was almost tangible.

"Bell?" Octavia addressed him tersely.

"I asked if I could visit Raven quickly, just to see how she was doing. Didn't realise I'd be disturbing you all," he said.

"Is that alright Chancellor? Harper will stay with him and take him back to his cell as soon as he's done." Miller asked.

Octavia turned from her brother back to Clarke and the distaste on her face was evident.

Clarke shrugged, "That's fine," she answered simply. "How's Bryan?"

"Not great. He's taking the loss of his friends hard, I was just going to go check up on him whilst I'm on my break," Miller replied.

"Good. Make sure he's drinking his fluids. And talk to someone if you are worried," Clarke said.

Octavia saw Miller give a nod and with that he was gone, leaving Harper to guard Bellamy. The pair approached Raven's cot and everyone shuffled about to make room until they were stood on the opposite side of the bed to Clarke and the Commander.

"Somebody's popular," Bellamy said to Raven.

Raven gave a shrug, "We're having a heroes reunion. Or we were anyway."

Octavia looked to her brother and saw the hurt in his face at Raven's jibe. He gulped it back. "Look, I know I'm probably not welcome here. I just wanted to check-up on you. And I guess, say thank you to you all for saving our people. It was well done," Bellamy muttered, "So I guess that's it, I'll just-" Bellamy made to leave again.

"How are you, Bellamy?" Clarke spoke up and Bellamy stopped dead and turned back around.

"Alright," he said, "I've been watered, if not fed yet. It's a little quieter than usual in the cell room, though," he added and his voice was pained.

Octavia grimaced. She had seen the bodies of six of the prisoners from the cell room. Out of the eight, only Hannah and one more of Pike's loyalists had woken back up from the simulation. She would have felt sorrier for her brother, for him having to sit in his own cell, unable to offer help to those in the one next door, if it wasn't his own actions that had put him in such a helpless position to begin with. Octavia had certainly been curious about her brother's fate, concerned even, otherwise she wouldn't have asked Lincoln to go and check on him. But when Lincoln eventually got around to telling her how Bellamy was the only prisoner who had refused to take a chip, purportedly out of some lingering sense of responsibility towards her, the sentiment had rang somewhat hollow after all Bellamy had put her through; what he had almost helped to take away from her. And now, seeing his face in person only seemed to make those scars flare up again. Every time she looked at him, she found herself taken back to that awful moment when Bellamy had ripped Lincoln from her arms. She remembered the dread she had felt knowing that she was about to lose him. Even Bellamy's timely change of heart could not soothe such lasting trauma.

"Well, now there's only you and two of the farm station prisoners left, maybe they'll think of something more useful for you to do," Clarke mused.

"Isn't that your decision, Chancellor?" Bellamy shot back. Octavia, fully focused on the conversation once again, tensed as she prepared for her brother's reaction to Clarke's announcement.

"Not anymore. I'm stepping down as Chancellor and returning to my duties as Ambassador in Polis. Skaikru needs a representative in the Coalition."

Octavia saw as Bellamy straightened up. She flickered her attention from him to Clarke and Lexa and saw that their facades of superiority had already slipped back into place. Clarke's face was severe, whilst Lexa's expression was cooly challenging. She looked to Bellamy again and watched as he worked his jaw. He nodded.

"You're right. There's a lot of good you can do for us from the capital. And if you've found yourself taking to the position, it makes sense for it to be you that goes," Bellamy finally said. His voice was tense, and Octavia knew that despite his decision to be diplomatic to avoid making a scene, there was still plenty of resentment behind his words. "Safe travels, Clarke," Bellamy added, and the well wishing came out almost mechanically, betraying his true feelings to anyone else in the group paying enough attention to pick up on such things.

"Thanks," Clarke responded curtly, "Anyway, we should make a move. I still need to hand over to my Mom and say goodbye to her."

"Thanks for visiting me," Raven said with a smile, "You too Commander. I might change my mind when the meds wear off, but for now I think we can call a truce." Raven offered out a hand and Octavia watched as Lexa bemusedly reached out and gave Raven a handshake, the gesture unfamiliar to the Commander.

"You're a true hero, Raven. And a credit to the spirit of your people. Stay strong," Lexa replied with a nod.

Clarke leaned over the cot to give Raven a hug, and then she offered one to Monty and Lincoln too. Then it was Octavia's turn and Octavia wrapped her arms tightly around her friend.

"Thank you for watching over me, Octavia," Clarke whispered to her as they hugged.

"Anytime, Ambassador," Octavia replied and she gave Clarke one last squeeze before they parted. Octavia regarded the couple. "Look after one another," she said.

Octavia watched as the couple began to leave, Clarke offering yet more goodbyes and a wave to each of them as she went.

"Enjoy all of the politics!" Raven called after them as they left. Clarke turned her head to look over her shoulder and gave one last eyeroll as she went and then, the door slid shut again.

"I'm surprised you too aren't going with them, make it a double date," Harper spoke up now.

"You're still leaving then?" Bellamy added, his voice low and undoubtedly tinged with disappointment.

Octavia looked up to Lincoln meaningfully and then she shrugged, "We haven't decided where we want to go yet. But yeah, eventually we'll leave," she answered.

"Urgh, look at you all. Coupling up and leaving me," Raven moaned comically, "Where's my adventure?"

Octavia was about to offer support when yet another new voice chimed in,

"Yeah, about that," Murphy started as he appeared close to Raven's cot. He had previously been sat at Emori's bedside in the far corner of the medbay and the pair had kept to themselves since they'd reawakened. Murphy offered an awkward wave.

"Hey," he said, "I figure that I'm allowed to cut in since you've already made exceptions for the Commander and Bellamy."

Raven simply motioned her hand and did not protest.

Murphy came towards the cot and he actually looked nervous. "Right so, I guess we are both well aware that all this is still, technically, my fault," he started, "And I also know it's probably not worth a damn for you to hear it, but I am genuinely sorry for what happened."

"What's your point Murphy?" Bellamy shot in, his voice harsh. His protectiveness over Raven had not faded, Octavia saw, for all of his other regressions.

"Well, Emori and I have been discussing where we're going to head next and well, I had an idea. ALIE had this huge mansion in the north, it's completely intact. And it's probably full of information about the company that created the City of Light. We're talking a huge business, with fingers in lots of pies. We want to go back there to see if there's anything worth salvaging. What if you came with us?" Murphy asked Raven.

"And why would I want to do that?" Raven asked, her tone sharp.

Octavia turned back to Murphy in expectation.

"Like I said, fingers in lots of pies. It might be a longshot, but maybe the company also dealt in the cutting-edge medical business." He explained, and when that garnered no response; "Maybe we could find something that could help fix your leg. Or replace it, even."

"You want me to trust something made by the same people that made ALIE?" Raven argued,

Murphy shrugged, "If they made that stuff, I doubt that they'd have an evil AI chip incorporated into their prosthetics. But if they do, I promise not to use you for any diamond heists."

Raven grinned, "I used to love that film! You'd make a great villainous penguin, Murphy."

"Thanks. I think," Murphy replied, "So, what do you think?"

"I think I'd say it was a terrible idea if i wasn't so damn high right now," Raven said, "But hell yeah. Let's go."

Octavia smiled. It was a longshot, Murphy was right. But it was also a glimmer of hope for Raven. For all of them really. And goodness knows that they could all use some of that.

* * *

Abby stretched her legs out in front of her as her head lolled back against the metal hull of Arkadia's main building. She sighed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her cheeks as she looked out over the settlement's exterior. It was full of people, all of them sitting or standing idly, most of them with tumblers of water in their hands which they often lifted to drink from with undeniable relief upon their faces.

It was a strange but welcome sight to behold after the absolute rush of chaos that had kept Abby occupied for hours. As her cheeks were warmed by the high sun, so her feet burned from the time she had spent on them, tending to her people until nothing more could be done for them but to recommend a good few days of taking it easy. Abby was glad to see that most were already taking her advice. It felt like a much needed deep breath; a time to recollect oneself before the slog of recovery caught up with them again. It would certainly be a long time before Arkadia was back on its feet, longer even that that until they made any sort of progress towards developing the settlement and their place on the ground further. But for now, Abby flexed her toes in her boots and watched with a smile as her people just relaxed.

Her smile turned into a beam as Abby spotted her daughter coming out of the main building. Clarke scanned the space before her and as soon as her eyes set upon her mother, she made a beeline for Abby.

"Hey there," Abby greeted, shielding her eyes from the light as she peered up into her daughter's face. Clarke looked just as exhausted as Abby felt, but still she returned Abby's smile with a bright one of her own.

"Hi, Mom," she answered and then Clarke plopped herself down next to Abby, shuffling backwards so that she too could lean her head back against the hull. "How are-"

"How are you doing?" Abby interjected, asking the exact same question simultaneously. The pair shared a laugh.

"I'm alright. Just visited Raven in the medbay. It turned out to be quite the gathering," Clarke gave an answer first, "You?"

"Exhausted," Abby stated, "But sitting out here and seeing this," she motioned to the yard of people, "Helps a lot."

Clarke gave a nod of understanding, "I'm glad you've given yourself the chance to take a rest. Things got pretty hectic back there."

Abby shrugged. "There wasn't much to be done. In an ideal world I'd have everyone on drips for a few hours. But a check-up and water had to suffice," Abby said, and then, "And I _do_ know the importance of taking breaks, you know."

Clarke turned towards her, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Alright, so maybe Lincoln had to convince me. But I trust he's got the situation in the medbay under control. It's a relief to have him here," Abby trailed off, her voice growing quiet.

"I'm sorry about Jackson, Mom," Clarke murmured, picking up immediately on Abby's shift in mood.

Abby offered a sad smile, "It's ok," she whispered, "I guess, knowing that he truly believed he was in a better place makes it easier to accept. It's cruel in a way to be sad that he didn't wake up. Or the others that preferred the dream."

"Forty-six in total," Clarke stated and Abby saw her grimace. Clarke continued, her voice tinged with dark cynicism; "One more than I saved when I pulled that lever in Mount Weather."

"It was the right decision to shut it down Clarke. You saved more than we lost," Abby said firmly and she placed her hand on Clarke's knee and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"It wasn't just me," Clarke replied.

Abby nodded. She had heard from various sources, not least Raven herself, how a small team had managed to destroy the City of Light and save Arkadia. Abby didn't understand exactly how they'd managed it, for the tales had been rushed and, Abby suspected, somewhat exaggerated. Abby had also been surprised to find that Commander Lexa had had a part in saving the settlement, something Abby had found out when she'd rushed in need people to the medbay only to find the Commander already in there, lying on a cot and waiting for anesthetic to wear off. When she had asked the Commander why she was there, Lexa had replied honestly, telling Abby quietly how she had given up the Commander's spirit- which was in fact an upgrade for ALIE- so that the City of Light could be shut down. It was something that Abby would always be grateful for and she felt certain at last that she could trust that the Commander's intentions to keep the Sky people safe were true.

"Where is Lexa?" Abby asked and she was stunned to see that Clarke's face dropped at the question.

"She's gathering our things up," Clarke said quietly, her voice guilty.

Abby frowned and stared at her daughter. Then she motioned her head as understanding dawned on her, "You were working up to tell me you're leaving," she ventured.

Clarke shrugged. "If you're going to tell me I'm needed here, don't. I've already had that off of Octavia."

"Octavia's right," Abby snapped, then she sighed for she did not want to turn their goodbyes sour, if goodbye it had to be. "But I understand your decision. I know you don't enjoy being Chancellor, regardless of your aptitude for it."

"I don't. I don't know why, I just felt more useful in Polis. More settled acting as Ambassador," Clarke confirmed.

"Well, you've certainly more experience interacting with the grounders than most of us have," Abby said and she saw Clarke wrinkle her nose, "I'm being serious! You lived among them for three months on your own; you've lived in their capital. Of course you feel most comfortable acting in a position that bridges the two worlds. And we'd be unwise to discourage you from that. Goodness knows we have a lot to make up for as a society to get back into the Coalition's good books," Abby argued her point. "Although I also understand that your heart has settled in Polis, too and don't hold it against you if that's one of the main reasons for your decision to leave. I made you promise to fight for your chance at happiness, it wouldn't be fair for me to go back on that request now."

"Wow, you're almost worse than Raven! And she was completely spaced out!" Clarke whined, but then her face fell again, "There's something else though. I think I would have stayed here longer, but the situation in Polis is complicated at the moment," she admitted.

"Oh?" Abby prompted.

Clarke creased her brow. "You can't tell anyone else about this. Arkadia's got enough on its plate already without adding to everyone's worries. But one person at least should know, just in case," Clarke started, her voice severe.

Abby gave a nod to show that Clarke could trust her, but she remained otherwise silent and waited for Clarke to speak again.

"There was a coup," Clarke muttered. "A nightblood trained in secret by the Ice Queen managed to infiltrate the tower and slaughter the Commander's proteges. Lexa managed to run, knowing she was too weak to fight. That's why she came to Arkadia the first time, to tell me what had happened. I helped her to find a hideout in the woods so that she could recover. But she never moved far away from Arkadia and her connection to the City of Light alerted her to the situation here. And- well- she told you what she gave up to save us."

"The Commander's spirit," Abby muttered. Her heart felt heavy at Clarke's revelation.

"So now, she has to go back to the capital and win back the throne, without anyone else finding out the truth about what the spirit was. And whilst I know I'm needed here, I can't just sit and wait for news. I have to go with her. And if it goes bad, well maybe my being in Polis will give Arkadia a chance of surviving if Ontari rightfully takes command."

Abby let out a breath. "I assume the Sky people would be first on this Ontari's hit list?" she asked. Clarke simply nodded. "Then of course, you need to go," she said.

Clarke gave a grateful, if slightly forced, smile.

"Are you ready to leave, Clarke?" Lexa's voice cut in, for the Commander had approached Mother and daughter with neither of them noticing.

"Almost," Clarke said as she turned her head to look up at Lexa.

Abby regarded the Commander too and saw that she also looked tired, which was unsurprising since she had done her fair share of helping to get water to Arkadia's residents once she had recovered from surgery. A jolt of concern for Lexa's wellbeing shot through Abby's bones as she considered what Lexa would be facing upon her return home. Abyy picked herself up off the floor and regarded Lexa properly.

"Clarke has told me how urgent it is that you leave for Polis immediately. I wish you luck, Commander," Abby said. "And I promise you that knowledge about the coup, along with what you told me in the medbay, will not pass my lips to anyone else."

Lexa gave a nod, "Thank you, Dr. Griffin. I only hope for a swift victory, so that I may resume my duties and turn my attention back to offering what help I can towards Skaikru's recovery."

"Oh that reminds me," Clarke cut in and Abby watched as her daughter unpinned the Chancellor's badge from her jacket. She handed it over and Abby took the small thing. "I leave it to you to decide what to do with that," Clarke said, "I'll do my best to serve whoever wears it as their Ambassador in the Kongeda."

"As will I, as their Commander," Lexa offered too.

Abby smiled, though she felt a wave of sadness for she knew that the time to actually say goodbye had arrived at last. She regarded Lexa.

"I feel I need to thank you," Abby said, "Or rather, I need to thank the Commander for taking her duties to the Skaikru seriously, and for the part you played in helping to defeat ALIE." Abby paused for a moment as she considered whether to continue, she decided it needed to be said; "And I want to thank you, Lexa, for coming to help my daughter, even despite the risks of doing so."

Abby stopped when she saw the way that Clarke and Lexa's eyes flickered to one another. The depth of feeling between them was apparent on both of their faces.

"I said that Clarke would be safe under my protection, Dr Griffin. That is a promise I intend to keep for as long as Clarke will allow me," Lexa responded and her voice was heavy with sincerity. "Though I admit that Clarke has more than matched my abilities to keep her from harm. And she's repaid the favour plenty of times, too."

Abby narrowed her eyes as she was reminded of something. She reached into the large inside pocket of her jacket and pulled from it Clarke's drawing pad. It had still been on the desk in the bedroom that had served as Clarke's prison. Abby had claimed it for safekeeping when she had gone there to help one of the awoken residents.

"Here," Abby said and she passed the pad over to Clarke, "You should take this with you. There's a few more pages for you to fill with your adventures in Polis."

Clarke took the pad with a grin. "Adventures? With any luck, after Lexa takes her throne back, our days will just be filled with diplomatic meetings and trade negotiations."

"Oh I'm quite sure we'll find ourselves in a little more trouble before long, Clarke," Lexa shot back at that, "We do seem to have a talent for it."

"Well," Abby said, "As long as I know you'll be facing it together, I don't need to worry about that fact quite as much as I might."

Abby felt a squeeze against her hand, for her daughter had taken it into her own. Clarke was looking at her with gratitude and happiness, fully aware of the weight behind Abby's words. Abby smiled back at her daughter.

"You better make a start," Abby whispered, "It's a long journey you've both got ahead of you." Abby knew that the couple would realise she wasn't just speaking of their literal travels.

"Goodbye, Mom," Clarke said and she stepped forward and Abby felt herself being enveloped into a tight hug. She returned it gratefully and gave her daughter a tight squeeze.

"I love you, Clarke," Abby whispered into her daughter's shoulder.

"Love you too, Mom," Clarke replied.

Abby placed a kiss to Clarke's forehead and then she stepped out of the embrace, or else she might never have let go.

Abby turned to Lexa.

"May we meet again, Dr Griffin," Lexa said, "After all, Polis is only a twelve hour journey away. Shorter in one of your vehicles. Should I achieve victory, all of Skaikru will be welcome to visit the capital whenever they wish."

Abby smirked. "I think 'Abby' is fine, given that this is not an official parting," she said.

The Commander looked sheepish. "Then let us part for now as Abby and Lexa," she said.

Abby motioned towards Clarke, "You better take care of my daughter, Lexa,"

"I will," Lexa responded almost before Abby had finished speaking.

Satisfied, Abby stepped forward and threw her arms around Lexa in a brief hug. She could feel the way Lexa's body jerked in surprise, but then Lexa relaxed and returned the gesture. When Abby stepped back and looked into Lexa's face, she saw more than she ever had before, the young woman that Lexa truly was. Abby's eyes found her daughter again and by now, they were filling with tears. Abby held them back.

"Now go on. Scram," she said.

Clarke and Lexa both smiled and then they turned away in unison and walked together towards the gate. Abby stood and watched as Clarke shouted up at the guards in the tower to open the gate, and then the pair stalked through it and it shut tight behind them. Abby stayed standing, watching the gate a while longer, and then she made to return to the medbay, her own duties beckoning once again. She thumbed at the Chancellor's pin as she went.

* * *

They had made slow progress away from Arkadia, walking hand-in-hand, for the day was too pleasant to simply rush by without enjoying it. Besides the pleasant warmth of the air, Lexa was incredibly tired and she assumed that Clarke must be too, for neither of them had gotten any real rest between Arkadia's awakening and now. There had been far too much to put back in order and far too many people to care for to even think about taking more than the odd stolen moment. Still, Lexa took some comfort in knowing that when the chance to rest did present itself, it would be the first sleep she'd have without the flame whispering in her mind in six years. Lexa raised a hand absentmindedly to the back of her neck and itched at her stitches under the gauze dressing. She felt a squeeze against her other hand and Lexa looked to Clarke.

"Is it alright?" Clarke asked, concern in her voice.

Lexa smiled, "Itchy," she responded simply.

"Good, that means it's healing. What about the rest of you?"

"As good as it can be, all things considered," Lexa said with a shrug. She brushed her thumb against Clarke's hand, "It's good to be outside again," she mused.

She saw Clarke smirk. "I didn't think you were much for Arkadia's decor," Clarke said.

"It's too metallic. Too confined, and dark," she admitted.

"Not enough candles, huh?" Clarke teased.

Lexa gave a snort. "I think it's beyond fixing, even with a little cosy ambiance," she said, and then, "How did you stand it?"

"What? Being on the Ark?" Clarke asked.

Lexa nodded.

Clarke creased her brow. "Well, we didn't know anything different. It was cramped, definitely, but I guess the views helped."

"You could see the whole ground?" Lexa asked, her voice light with wonder, for Clarke had tried her best before to describe what the world looked like from up among the stars. Lexa still couldn't quite picture it.

"The whole Earth, yeah. I can remember looking down at the very piece of ground we're on now, wondering what it would be like to walk among all the green," Clarke said wistfully.

Lexa's eyes creased as she smiled widely. "And? Does the view down here meet your expectations?" she asked.

Clarke gave her own wide smile, "The view's alright," she answered coyly. She stopped walking and gave a tug on Lexa's hand so that Lexa did the same. Their eyes met. "I think green is an even more beautiful colour than I ever imagined, now that I've seen it so close."

Lexa felt colour rise to her cheeks and she glanced away from Clarke and looked out into the distance, considering what came next for them. It was wonderful to be able to share the walk back to Polis with Clarke, for them to simply be able to enjoy each other's presence whilst they were in limbo between their duties. Yet Lexa knew that the respite was almost at an end. Their progress had been slow, but they were coming close to the blockade line.

"We're approaching the blockade, aren't we?" Clarke asked, breaking the silence with her intuition. She must have noticed the shift in Lexa's mood and drawn her conclusions. It still took Lexa aback, to be read so easily by someone and so she only managed to nod in confirmation. Clarke opened her mouth to speak again, her brow creased; "How are we going to slip past them unseen? I'm sorry but stealth and acrobatics aren't really my strongest traits."

Lexa worked her jaw a moment as she considered if what she had planned was in fact a terrible idea. She spoke anyway; "We aren't going to slip past them. We're going to talk to them."

Clarke's mouth fell agape and then she shook her head vigorously, "We can't do that! They'll all be looking for you, waiting to take you to Polis- to Ontari- in chains."

"They'll only do that if they've thrown in with the pretender. If they remain loyal to me, then I can get them to finally disband and clear the way for your people to start hunting again once they are strong enough," Lexa argued cooly.

Clarke grimaced, "It's a big risk to take, Lexa," she murmured.

Lexa tightened her hand around Clarke's in comfort. "Probably," she admitted, "But if I can't inspire my own blockade force to follow my orders and stand down, then I might as well be taken back to the capital in chains, for I will already have lost where it truly counts, Clarke."

Clarke opened her mouth to argue back again, but she must have realised that Lexa had made a valid point, for she snapped her jaw shut again soon after.

"Besides," Lexa continued, her mouth turning up as she spoke, "It's certainly something I'm more familiar with than socialising with your friends and mother."

That earned her a brief laugh from Clarke. Lexa savoured the sound a moment and then she began to move again, pulling Clarke along with her through the tall grass. The pair fell into companionable silence again as they moved onward.

They weren't far away from the blockade perimeter at all, and soon enough they broke out into a clearing and the blockade was visible before them; marked by rows and rows of tents and the diminutive figures of warriors that grew ever larger as they approached. They were quickly noticed by the scouts in the blockade and a shout went up among the tents, so that by the time Lexa and Clarke reached the line that had been drawn into the ground, they arrived to an imposing wall of warriors standing before them. The General, marked by the intricate nature of the braids in her hair and the red sash about her waist, regarded Lexa with raised eyebrows.

"Heda Lexa?" she spoke, her voice betraying little of her intentions.

Lexa motioned her head in greeting, "General. I hope you are all ready to return to your homes. I have come to lift the blockade," Lexa stated, equally stoic.

"Oh? That's strange, for I received word from the capital not four days ago that you were in fact no longer the Commander. That you were usurped by Ontari kom Azgeda. And she has offered a generous reward for the person who apprehends the now fugitive former Commander and delivers her safely to Polis," the General said.

Lexa set her jaw and puffed herself out to her full height. The stance didn't feel quite right without the effect of her long coat and pauldron, but she stood firm nonetheless. "Then you should realise that whilst I yet live, Ontari kom Azgeda is merely a pretender to the throne and has no authority to make such promises."

"But she will upon your death," the General sneered and Lexa felt her hands twitch in anticipation, for she half expected the warrior to draw her sword right then and there, and Lexa prepared to do likewise. Instead the General turned her attention to Clarke. "I wonder if the reward will be even greater, if we were to deliver the mighty Wanheda to Polis too," she threatened.

Lexa was about to answer back, but Clarke beat her to it, "Oh I wouldn't bother. I make a particularly difficult prisoner. Just ask Haihefa Roan," she tried to diffuse the tension with her joke.

"Even so, we are a tempting prize Clarke," Lexa admitted and then she turned back to the General, "How about this," she started, "You allow me to address the blockade. If they agree to my orders, then clearly it is I whose authority your warriors still recognise. If not, you may take Wanheda and I to Polis in chains and collect your reward," Lexa offered. "Although, you might want to consider the amount of competition you'll likely face to be the person pulling our chains."

The General considered Lexa a moment, her eyes sharp, and then she gave a nod. "Very well," she muttered and then she motioned a hand to the line of warriors at her flanks, so that they parted and allowed Lexa and Clarke through.

Lexa moved further into the blockade camp until she was stood before the General's own tent, for it was set away apart from the others. It did not take long for a crowd to form all around, as those in the vicinity gathered to hear what Lexa had to say. Lexa was confident that her words would pass quickly along the whole circumference of the blockade. She waited for the crowd to settle and then she scanned her eyes over the faces of her people and began to speak, her voice low and official;

"Warriors of the Kongeda. By now I know that you have heard of the recent turn of events in our capital. The Azgeda Nightblood, Ontari, infiltrated and slaughtered the nightbloods in an attempted coup against my rule. I escaped the attack, and have been away dealing with an urgent matter in Arkadia. But now I intend to return to Polis and reclaim my throne," Lexa paused a moment, giving herself time to collect her thoughts, for she knew that one wrong word could have dire consequences. "I know that Ontari has put a price on me. I know how tempting it must be to strike now whilst I am so outnumbered and claim that reward. But I ask you to remember that as long as I still breathe, Ontari is not yet the Commander. And I ask you to think, and think hard, about the type of future you will be securing for our Coalition, should you act to solidify the pretender's rule. We know little about the Azgeda Nightblood, other than that she has been trained from a young age as the late Queen Nia's pawn to seize power over Trikru territory, and now, the coalition. We know that she showed no mercy when she infiltrated the tower and slaughtered the natblida children whilst they slept."

Lexa came to a rest once again as her last words sent a ripple of low murmurs through the crowd. Lexa gave them a chance to stew a moment in collective outrage at Ontari's actions.

"Considering why she has attempted a coup, and the tactics she employed, I do not think it unreasonable to assume that Ontari kom Azgeda's rule would be a bloody one. I am quite certain that should she take the throne, her first act will be to send you to war against Arkadia. And then, without the guidance of her mentor in her ear now that Nia is dead, can you be certain of her competency as a ruler? Are you willing to take that chance?" Lexa let out a long breath, as she prepared to bring her speech to a close; "I have come here to disband this blockade and send you all home to your families, should you choose to continue to recognise me as your rightful Commander. I know that there have been many changes to the way things are done under my rule, changes that have been hard for all of us to adjust to. I only hope that you possess the foresight to see that the decisions I make, the way I have chosen to lead, is all because I consider your safety and happiness to be my absolute priority. If you enjoy the call of bloodshed more than you enjoy reuniting with your loved ones. If the prospect of war is more enticing to you than being home to watch your family flourish, then by all means, capture me now and deliver me to Ontari. Though, speaking as someone who has experienced what it is to part with a loved one to an uncertain future," Lexa said and she could not help but to glance quickly to Clarke as she said those words, "I have to hope that all of you here do believe in our chance for lasting peace. And I swear to you, that should I retake my throne, I will give all that I can so that you need not fear the pain of uncertain partings ever again. I may not achieve it for you, but I am willing to give my life trying to."

Lexa came to a close and all the camp was totally silent but for the buzzing of insects in the air and the crackle of cooking fires. Lexa tried to keep her breath even as she waited for a response, any sort of response, and then her heart lifted out of her stomach as one by one, the warriors before her sank to their knees in a silent pledge of loyalty. Lexa raised her chin as she surveyed the warriors and the kneeling figures went back almost as far as she could see; she could even make out the curve of the blockade. Finally, the moment came to a pass and the blockade rose to stand once again. The General that Lexa had first spoken to came forward.

"With all due respect, Heda, we appreciate your dedication to seeing us return safely to our homes and loved ones," the General said, her voice now much lighter, "But we cannot follow that command just yet. Heda, allow us to accompany you to Polis, so that the pretender may see whose side the warriors of the Kongeda are on."

Lexa swallowed as a turbulent force of emotions rolled through her at the General's request. She found that she dared not speak, for she was certain her voice would crack, and so Commander Lexa simply offered a terse nod of permission.

* * *

Jaha shifted his attention from the bed to the door when a sharp knock sounded upon the metal. He frowned, for he was not expecting any company; indeed since the rest of the settlement had reawakened he had found himself ignored, if not avoided entirely.

"Come on in," he called out

The door slid open to reveal a pensive looking Abby. She moved into the room and Jaha noted how her eyes immediately fell to the bed too as she entered. It was the same room that they had been locked up in together, though Jaha had been comatose for most of that time. But when he had jerked awake, his mind jolted out of the City of Light by ALIE once she no longer had control over him and therefore could not trust to keep him within the simulation, Abby had rushed to his side and calmed him down from his panic. She had remained at the bedside, keeping close watch over him as he had mumbled incoherently about what a terrible mistake he had made, until their door and all the other doors in Arkadia finally unlocked. Then Abby had left him where he had been lain, so that she could offer her aid to the rest of the settlement.

"I never thanked you properly, for watching over me when I woke up. Your face was an extraordinary comfort," Jaha spoke at last, voice quiet.

"Well, you weren't really making much sense in those first moments. But, you are welcome. Are you feeling better?" Abby responded.

Jaha gave a nod as Abby finally looked away from the bed and towards him. "I am. At least, physically now that I've had something to drink. The scars left by what I did, what I almost sowed, however…" Jaha trailed off.

"Will be yours to bear for the rest of your life," Abby finished for him.

Jaha gulped and looked down towards the floor. He knew why his people had elected to stay out of his way. It had been he after all, who had brought ALIE to Arkadia, who had insisted that her vision was what was best for everyone. Only when it was nearly too late had he realised the extent of her manipulation, the true nature of the artificial intelligence and her disregard for the very essence of humanity. Jaha gave a sigh.

"Why have you come Abby?" he asked, certain it wasn't just a social call.

"I have something of a conundrum to solve," Abby replied and then she reached into a pocket and pulled from it the Chancellor's pin. Jaha raised an eyebrow. "Clarke has left this in my care," Abby said as she thumbed at the badge, "She wanted me to make sure it goes to the right person now that she's stepped down and returned to Polis with the Commander."

"She's left Arkadia?" Jaha asked.

"Yes. A few hours ago now. She intends to resume her position as Ambassador for the Skaikru and will represent us in the Coalition," Abby explained.

Jaha frowned. He could see the logic behind Clarke's decision, she certainly had most experience dealing with the grounders out of any of them, except perhaps Octavia Blake but she did not yet possess the same level of emotional maturity that Clarke did. It still made him nervous though, to think about his people having to learn to live among the grounders, for he had experienced firsthand how ruthless they could be. It wouldn't be an easy path to follow. Still, he passed no outward judgment.

"Then what is the problem you have run into? Clarke is right to trust you with such an important task," he said.

Abby grimaced. "Maybe. But I won't be here to complete that task," she said, and then before Jaha could protest, "I have just come from the medbay where a rather excitable Raven told me of a plan she and John Murphy have devised to go looking for a way to fix her leg. They'll need someone with medical knowledge to accompany them on their little quest."

"Arkadia's people need its medical chief, Abby," Jaha protested,

"Yes, and none more so than Raven Reyes. We'll run out of pain meds eventually, even if we ration her intake. And then Arkadia will instead suffer from the permanent loss of it's most promising mechanic. That isn't good for a young settlement that needs to look to grow in the future. If we go and find something to help her, we can all come back. So now I need to decide who to leave this with," Abby finished and she raised the pin in front of her.

Jaha suddenly realised what Abby was proposing and he gave a rumbling laugh. "You haven't come here to give it to me, have you?" he asked incredulously.

Abby made a face, "Only for safekeeping. To see that it makes it onto the right person's lapel," she said, "You have the most political experience out of anyone here, you'll make sure that the ballot is not the farce it turned into that allowed Pike to seize power."

Jaha considered Abby's words a moment. He felt his stomach churn. "How can you trust that I won't simply take it and declare myself Chancellor? It wouldn't be an unfair assumption given what I have done," he asked, his voice harsh.

"Well," Abby replied in a harsh whisper of her own, "I do intend to ask Sinclair and Octavia to keep an eye on you if you accept the challenge," she warned. "Besides, I'm choosing to trust that you've learned your lesson by now."

"And what lesson is that?" Jaha shot back.

"You've learned that you can't just take the path of least resistance to help your people," Abby responded.

"Was I helping them, or helping to raise myself up to something greater than I am?" Jaha gave Abby pause again. He saw the cogs turning in Abby's mind, the way her eyes narrowed in determination.

"If that was truly the case, then my daughter would not have succeeded in waking you up," Abby argued, "No, I think- I hope at least- that your heart was always in the right place, Thelonius. You suffered a great loss with the death of your son, and the majority of your people. I think you came down to Earth with a burning need to believe that you had survived for some reason. You decided that that reason was because your service to the people of the Ark was not yet finished. And given the failure at your first attempt to make amends, don't you think that now is the time to prove to Arkadia, and to yourself, that you still do want what is best for us all?" Abby waved the pin towards him, "This is your chance to do that. Take the hard road and prove yourself to still be the great leader and friend I remember," she finished her plea.

Jaha glanced down at the pin, noted the way the electric light bounced off the metal. He reached out and took it from Abby.

"Alright. I'll see to it that this finds its way into safe hands," Jaha agreed at last, and he meant it.

"Good. You know you could always run in the election yourself. Like I said, there's nobody with more experience than you," Abby said, a smile on her face.

Jaha shook his head, "No, I don't think I'll run," he answered. "You know, ALIE said to me when first we met that my name has two meanings. Ruler of men was one. Tiller of the Earth the other. I don't think the first meaning has proved to be the best fit. There are plenty of ways that I can serve my people, not least by trying my hand at the second."

Abby motioned that she understood his choice and then her eyes widened. "That reminds me. I had intended to suggest to the council that we set the three remaining prisoners to work. They can start by putting the farming area in the outer yard back in order, and then after that they can be moved outside the walls. Under guard, for the time being, of course," Abby suggested.

"It's a good idea," Jaha said, "Certainly of more use to Arkadia than they are stuck in their cells. Or would have been were they still on the Ark when they committed their crimes," Jaha mused.

"Well, there's a lot of things we can achieve here on the ground that we could never have even dreamed back on the Ark," Abby replied, "We just have to be willing to put the work in to get there."

"When does your little expedition intend to leave?" Jaha asked.

"Tomorrow. I want at least another twenty-four hours in the settlement. Making sure that the situation remains as calm as it is now. You should get out of this room, go outside. It's quite the comforting sight out there," Abby said.

Jaha nodded. He thought he might do just that.

* * *

Ontari sneered at Roan from where she sat on the opposite end of the large table in the Azgeda Embassy inside the tower. The room looked much different from when last she had stepped foot in it, for the new ruler of her clan had taken it upon himself to redecorate. Gone were the sharp edges and stuffed animals that reminded her so much of the palace; replaced with sparse wooden furnishings off-set with various ornamental pieces like those that adorned most of the tower, few if any of them sourced from Azgeda itself. Ontari studied the King as he ate, popping berries one-by-one into his mouth, the afternoon sun illuminating his figure from the window behind him. He was making a show of paying her little attention.

"Why have you come here, King Roan?" Ontari spat the title out.

Roan glanced up at her from his food, his eyes sharp. "I am concerned for the wellbeing of my clan now that you have attempted to take command," he replied coolly.

"You mean you have come to insult me, then," Ontari snarled, "I am Azgeda. My rule would be of great benefit to our people, were you not so clearly under Lexa's thumb now that she has publicly humiliated you. Tell me, did you let her pick out the new furnishings too? Only there's a few pieces in my new bedroom that I'd like to get shut of."

Ontari caught the way Roan rolled his eyes at her. He scoffed another handful of berries and made her wait for a response. Ontari felt herself bristle, and her hands clenched into fists under the table. She slouched back into the wooden chair and tried to make herself look just as disinterested as he was.

"Commander Lexa played a cunning game, the day of our duel. Still, she put me on the Azgeda throne and has since left the clan well enough alone."

"She killed your Mother," Ontari said.

That got Roan's attention, for he shoved the bowl of food away from himself and finally looked up to her fully. "She killed the Queen. Nia stopped being my Mother long ago," he replied.

Ontari gave a mocking pout, "Aw, poor lonely boy," she taunted.

"Takes one to know one," Roan offered back. He opened his mouth again before Ontari could retort; "I did resent you, you know. When I was a boy, I hated you for taking my Mother away from me."

"Don't be so bitter, your majesty," Ontari drawled, "You saw the way she treated me. It was nothing to be jealous of." Ontari felt her stomach lurch as memories of unforgiving fists flying towards her small body came unbidden. She sat up straighter again, defiant against the past she had endured.

"Then why do you still do her bidding? Queen Nia is dead. You should let her plotting die with her," Roan urged.

"I can't do that," Ontari whispered back.

"Why not?" Roan asked.

"It's all I know. It's the only reason I have for living," Ontari admitted, for Roan had managed to get under her skin.

"A shame then, that you are so terribly incompetent at your one purpose without your Queen whispering guidance in your ear," Roan shot.

Ontari felt rage boil inside her and she immediately regretted her decision to open up to the King. She bared her teeth in challenge, "How dare you," she spat.

Roan shook his head at her in unveiled disgust. "I walked through the streets of Polis. I have never seen the capital in such a mess as it is now. It's truly quite the achievement in just a few days of rule. Are you aware that a Commander must deal with the everyday proceedings of her residence, so that it doesn't all fall to skrish?"

Ontari grimaced. She had not attended a single meeting with the residents of Polis, though request them they certainly had. She could not stand the thought of spending each day dealing with the petty squabbles of the peasantry that littered Polis's streets. "If they cannot solve their own problems, or fight their own battles, then they deserve to be ground into the dirt. Let them perish and make room for the strongest. I am Azgeda. It is not our way to coddle," she argued.

Roan snorted, "We both know from which side of the border my Mother snatched you from, Ontari. You are not Azgeda. Nor are you the Commander of the Coalition yet. Trust me, you should get out now, before your nearsightedness gets you killed," Roan spoke.

"What? Leave before I have my chance to take the throne legitimately? I will not crawl away into the shadows as Lexa did. And when I have her head, I will raise it up for the people of Polis to see and they will cheer for their new leader," Ontari said.

She saw as Roan made to reply, but he stopped short and turned towards the window with confusion upon his face.

"What is it?" Ontari asked.

"Hush," Roan snapped, "Listen."

Ontari strained her ears, and sure enough a great swelling of noise could be heard emanating from the streets of the city far below the tower. Ontari sprang up out of her chair and began to move towards the window, her ears straining. As she drew closer, at last she could make out what was being said. It was a chant of a single word, over and over; "Heda! Heda! Heda!"

Ontari smirked and glanced to Roan. "You see," she sneered, "They chant for their Commander."

Roan raised an eyebrow and picked himself up off of his chair. They walked in unison and came to the window and together they surveyed the view of the city.

Ontari felt her stomach drop in an awful mix of anger, disbelief, and terror. The entire city was converging on the tower, and mixed in with the civilians Ontari could see a whole army; no doubt the forces that had been to her knowledge, still posted in a blockade force around Arkadia. Ontari scanned back to the front of the marching crowd and even from nearly halfway up the tower, Ontari could see that it was Lexa and Wanheda who were leading the chanting force.

"Right you are," Roan taunted her as he surveyed the city with a satisfied smile, "They chant for their Commander."

* * *

Lexa halted before the tower, still far enough away to see to the top if she craned her neck. She peered upwards to the beacon of flame that burned atop the tower. Lexa's jaw flexed as it dawned on her that the ever-burning fire was now an empty metaphor; a visual representation of the spirit that she'd sacrificed to save Arkadia. Even so, the beacon had been used ever since the reign of Promheda Beka, and should Lexa perish today, the fire would still be doused and then re-lit with Ontari as the rightful Commander.

Lexa's lips tugged upwards as she imagined what Titus's face would look like as he cut open her body only to find the flame gone. He'd have no choice but to cover up the truth and still declare Ontari Commander, for her very victory would make her the most worthy ruler in the eyes of the Kongeda. As far as they knew, the spirit will have chosen her. The smile faded as Lexa remembered that should she win instead, then she would have to tell Titus about the loss of the flame herself. Lexa could not imagine that the Fleimkepa would take the news well. Nor did she relish the prospect of thinking of something to do with Titus now that her actions had rendered his role meaningless.

Despite Lexa's reservations about facing Titus, she knew that once again inducing the man's wrath would be a small price to pay should she achieve victory. The sights that she and her makeshift army had arrived to once they'd reached the city had made Lexa more certain than ever of how vital her winning her throne back was. The marching group had arrived to almost total desolation; the streets of Polis had been empty where usually they were bustling with the hum of life. The doors of each house had been shut tight. The residents of Polis had taken to cowering in their own homes and Lexa could only imagine why. She had noted with utter despair the ransacked appearance of the market during her walk to the centre of the city. Stalls had been abandoned and wares scattered about the streets, as if everyone had rushed to lock themselves away in a great hurry. The city had no doubt been floundering without proper leadership. Whether the residents of Polis had decided under their own volition that it was better to simply retreat indoors, or whether they'd done so out of fear of repercussions for the descent into chaos, either way it made Lexa's blood boil. The deserted streets had reminded Lexa immediately of the corridors in Arkadia, before Skaikru had reawakened from the Soncha Kapa. It was a sour comparison given Lexa's prior excitement at leaving the grey metal of Arkadia behind in favour of returning to her home.

At least the deserted streets had not stayed that way for long. There were still a few brave souls milling around outside and they had announced the arrival of Lexa and the army with great, booming shouts that could soon be heard echoing from the shut-up buildings. Lexa had glanced about in wonder as doors burst open and people poured out into the streets. At first, the rush had been utterly confusing as people tried to understand what exactly was going on. But as more and more people had caught sight of Lexa leading the army, so they had joined in with the march towards the tower. More and more of them had spilled out of their homes and joined the chanting procession, the further into the city Lexa went. Now, Lexa looked away from the flame and she turned to regard the crowd that had formed. It was so large that she could not see where the procession ended, for as well as the blockade force it seemed as though the entire city had joined in the march.

It was a daunting sight, a stark visual reminder of just how many individual lives were counting on her victory today. And that was just once city's worth of people. There were so many more, throughout Trikru territory and indeed throughout twelve other clans. Lexa felt her heart begin to race as the true cost of her losing today really began to hit. She gulped hard.

"Hey," came a gentle voice from by Lexa's side, difficult to hear over the noise of the crowd chanting Lexa's title over and over. Lexa turned and faced Clarke. "You ok?" she asked.

Lexa gave a nod. "There's so many," she whispered so that she would not be overheard by anyone else.

Clarke glanced over her own shoulder and Lexa saw how her eyebrows shot up at the breathtaking sight. "There is," Clarke agreed, "And just listen to them. They're all so happy to see you, Commander."

Lexa offered a weak smile at Clarke's words of encouragement. She had no doubts that Clarke had picked up on her agitation and so, she had chosen to remind Lexa to focus on the positive. Lexa took a deep breath and she tried, allowing the sound of the chanting to wash over her and bolster her resolve. All of those people cheering for her; relying on her. She could not let them down.

It occurred to Lexa then how much she missed spending time down in the city among its residents. It had once been one of her favourite ways to spend her downtime, though the people that she had enjoyed exploring the capital with had disappeared over the years of her reign. More recently, she had been spending most of her time in Polis confined to the tower, only descending into the city when it was necessary for some official business or other. Lexa thought that it was time for that to change, should she still be drawing breath by the day's end. Lexa recalled back to the time she had first invited Clarke to Polis. She remembered how she had stuttered on her words for the prospect of showing Clarke around the streets of her home had been almost too exciting. Yet Clarke had spent plenty of time in Polis since then and Lexa had still not given her a tour of the city like she intended. Of course, more than a few obstacles had gotten in their way.

The groaning of wood cut into the din of the chant as the main doors to the tower were opened, and all thoughts of a potential future were quashed from Lexa's mind at the sight of her opponent. Ontari swaggered out of the doors and came to a stop. The pretender's eyes were cool as they stared forward into Lexa's, inviting and challenging. Lexa straightened her back and stood firm under the intense gaze as she refocused her energies towards the momentous challenge she now faced.

Lexa felt a squeeze against her elbow and she turned to Clarke again. Clarke said nothing, for the time for intimacy had passed. Instead she simply offered a warm smile and a nod, which Lexa returned. It wasn't much as partings went, but it was enough for Lexa that Clarke had marched right by her side all the way to Polis. Besides that, they had had their chance for privacy earlier on. It had taken some time for the blockade to ready itself to leave. The camp needed to be packed up and a good meal eaten before the warriors would go anywhere. The General had offered her own tent for Lexa and Clarke to rest in whilst the work was done. Lexa was sure that the exhaustion they had both felt must have been apparent. And so they'd retired to the tent and Lexa had had her first unbroken sleep in six years. She had not woken with a start or a cry, but gradually and to the feeling of warm arms wrapped tightly about her frame, and breath tickling against her shoulder. When Lexa had rolled to face Clarke and found her to still be asleep, she had known then that it was a sight that she would never tire of, should she be fortunate enough to have more opportunities to see it. But she had also known that were it to be the last time, then it would be more than enough.

"Good luck, Lexa," Clarke's voice rang out and brought Lexa back to the present. There was a softness in her eyes that made Lexa think that Clarke knew exactly where her mind had wandered to.

Lexa opened her mouth to respond but she faltered, afraid that saying the wrong thing would jinx their fate. "Thank you, Clarke," she managed at last. It was simple, though Lexa was expressing gratitude for far more than encouraging words. With that, she unfastened her cloak and handed it over to Clarke for safe keeping, knowing that Clarke would no doubt find Anya's journal in the pocket and keep it safe, should this be their last parting.

Lexa cleared her mind of all distractions and she propelled herself forward. As she moved the chanting of the crowd finally died down until there was nothing but total silence. Lexa stopped before Ontari and the pair measured each other up. Lexa noticed immediately the considerable height difference between them and already her mind filled again, this time with tactics and strategies for the coming battle.

Ontari looked like she was about to say something, but she was interrupted as a new figure came blundering out of the doors. Lexa realised that it was Fleimkepa Titus and he came to stand between them, his face red with exertion.

"If there is to be a duel, it must be done properly," Titus breathed out and Lexa had to suppress a smirk. "To the arena, both of you!"

Ontari rolled her eyes. "Nonsense. We fight here," she snapped.

Lexa gave a shrug, "Let's see which one of us makes it to the throne room," she said.

Titus's face seemed to go immediately from red to white, but still the Fleimkepa gave a nod. "Very well," he agreed. He stepped to the side and stuck his arm out between them. "Lexa kom Trikru. Ontari kom Azgeda. Today you duel to the death. The victor takes the throne of the Kongeda and will rule us until their fight is at last over. There are no rules but one. One of you must die today." Titus set the terms of the contest, his voice bellowing out so that the crowd could hear. The Fleimkepa removed his arm from between the opponents. "You may begin!"

 

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and part 2 were originally going to be one chapter, so I'll save my commentary for the next part.


	11. Ascension: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa faces perhaps the toughest challenge of her life as the time to duel with her usurper has arrived at last. Even if she achieves victory, the Commander knows that there are many challenges to face in the future. Octavia delivers some news to the prisoners and is forced once again to confront her brother. Raven and Murphy's expedition gets under way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is almost it. I have a short epilogue planned after this, but this chapter is essentially 'The End' of the main body of my fix-it.
> 
> Just a warning that the fight scene gets a little gory in places, so stay safe!

**Chapter 11: Ascension Part 2**

 

Lexa watched as Ontari drew her single sword from its sheath at her waist. It was an Azgeda blade, wide and crude but wickedly sharp on both edges. Ontari took a two-handed grip on the hilt and brought the blade up in a defensive pose. Lexa reached behind her own head and yanked the two blades free, bringing them down to her sides with a spin before raising them up again, ready to attack. She flexed her fingers against the grips, checking her hold on the weapons was firm but flexible. And then Lexa moved.

She whirled forward, pivoting her body with the first slash to increase its momentum. The blade whistled in the air and then Lexa felt the weapon shudder in her hand as Ontari swept it away with a powerful counter. Lexa vaguely made out the noise of the crowd's chanting picking back up, but she did not let the din distract her and instead she pushed forward again, bringing the same blade back up towards her shoulder in an upwards strike. The attack was batted away again. The time for measuring up her quarry had passed and Lexa breathed as she prepared her body to launch fully into an assault.

Lexa backed away from Ontari and then quickly spiralled back in once she had given herself the clearance to do so without getting struck from behind. She twirled her right blade up and around her head and then as her body aligned, she swept it towards Ontari's throat. Ontari brought her sword up and deflected the strike, but now Lexa followed through with her second blade, continuing her pivot to bring it to bear, aiming low this time. Ontari was forced to move with lightening speed to bring her single blade down in time to parry, but she managed with apparent ease. Lexa halted her spin, expecting Ontari to at last go on the offensive, but instead she began to back away. Lexa stalked after her and flourished her left blade in a figure of eight, trying to catch Ontari's retreating body. Ontari did not use her blade this time, but simply darted backwards and the blade passed in front of her on both instances.

As Ontari backed further away and passed over the threshold into the tower, Lexa understood what her opponent was doing. She was forcing Lexa to follow into the more confined spaces of the tower corridors, where Lexa's movement heavy fighting style would be of little use. Ontari had been present at the duel between Lexa and Roan, she had no doubt watched carefully, noting how Lexa used all the space granted to her, her agility and speed keeping her out of reach long enough to wear her opponents down. There would be no such room in the labyrinthine walkways of the tower but still, Lexa was forced to pursue Ontari into the building or else they would reach an impasse already.

Lexa swaggered forward through the doors, closing the distance between them once again. The entryway was still wide enough for a quick flourish of blades and Lexa twirled them both simultaneously as she moved, giving Ontari no opportunity to try to strike out first. Instead Ontari watched her whirling blades with intensity, measuring up, and then at last she thrust her sword forward and disrupted the whirling display. Ontari quickly jerked her sword back and then aimed a backhanded swipe at Lexa's gut. For the first time, Lexa had to parry and she quickly untangled her two blades. She flashed the left one down to block Ontari's attack. Before Ontari could pull back and try for another strike, Lexa moved her right blade, going for Ontari's throat. Instead of block, Ontari lept backwards again and Lexa was given little choice but to follow until the wide entrance of the tower gave way to a much narrower corridor.

With no more room for pirouetting, Lexa saw that it was time to switch things up. She took a more rigid hold on the hilts of her swords and drove forward at speed. As she approached Ontari, she jumped and brought her right blade down hard. Ontari had to check her own grip as she stopped the blow, her two hands tightening on her sword and pushing back against Lexa's strength. In a fight with another opponent, Lexa would have loathed to reveal the amount of upper body strength she possessed so early in the bout. Usually she would reserve it until she had tired her opponent out and then she would bear down on them, knowing that her appearance did not at all betray how strong she was. But Ontari had seen the spear throw Lexa had made to kill the Queen, had seen the effortlessness with which Lexa had hurled the weapon so hard that it had caused Nia to be thrown back and skewered to her seat. So Lexa did not hold back and she erupted into a series of brutish cuts and thrusts, embracing the limitations that the surroundings put upon her rather than letting them defeat her. Ontari was forced to back away again and again, though she caught a few of Lexa's attacks with an equally strong block where she could. Still, Lexa did not let up and even as her arms began to burn from the ferocity of her attack, she went on, all but steering Ontari down the walkway and around the curving shape of the tower interior.

Lexa had a clear destination in mind and so each strike, though brutal, was measured exactly to angle their progress in a certain direction through the tower. She herded Ontari onwards, both blades always in motion, using every last inch of space to give Ontari no way to go but back. At last, Lexa thrust both blades out and then swept them forward in a semi-circle that forced Ontari to leap to the side for a change. There was a thud as Ontari's back made contact with a set of double doors. Lexa brought both blades up from behind her back and then jerked them down in a vertical attack. Ontari brought her sword up and there was a sharp clatter as the three blades met. Lexa pushed downwards, trying to break through Ontari's block. Ontari held fast, the strength of her two-handed grip on one sword better than Lexa's one-handed grip on two. Ontari kept the block in place and Lexa saw too late as a boot flashed forward. Pain bloomed as the side of Ontari's foot scooped forward against Lexa's shin and Lexa stumbled back for a moment. She managed to right herself in time to parry against Ontari's sword as it whistled towards her face and then before she could answer with a strike of her own, Ontari lowered a hand from her blade and used it to blindly open one of the doors. Lexa repressed a smirk, for it had been exactly what she was hoping Ontari would do.

Lexa barrelled forward, swatting Ontari's incoming attack away as she moved. She thrust her own leg out and caught just above Ontari's knee with her boot heel. If it had hurt as much as it should have, Ontari showed no sign of it. Still, Lexa watched as Ontari processed their new surroundings and she caught a dangerous flash in the pretender's eyes. Lexa had led them to the dilapidated stairway and now, Ontari could choose to start climbing or risk being backed into a corner. Ontari chose the former option and she inched up onto the first step and then continued on. Lexa followed, knowing that despite being on the lower ground, that disadvantage was negated by the fact that she could see where she was placing her feet. Ontari on the other hand, was forced to climb in reverse. She would have to risk taking the time to turn and watch where she was putting her own feet or she would no doubt catch herself on the uneven stone, or plunge down through one of the gaps where the stairs had crumbled away completely.

Lexa bared her teeth as she continued her approach and once she was in range again, she jabbed one of her swords straight forward, hoping to make Ontari jump and loose her footing. Instead Ontari swiped her sword horizontally and caught Lexa's attack strongly. The impact caused Lexa's blade to shudder away from the kiss awkwardly and Lexa found it difficult to keep her own balance as she tried to bring the sword back under her control with only a single-handed grip upon it. She decided then that it would be better to lose a sword. Once she had steadied herself, she raised her left blade up and over her shoulder, as if to slash it forward. Instead, as the blade whistled by her ear, she let it go, leaning backwards immediately so that the loosed weapon did not catch her face as it whizzed through the air. Ontari clearly hadn't been expecting Lexa to sacrifice a weapon by choice and so she barely managed to bat the flying blade away in time, the movement rushed and clumsy.

Lexa did not waste the opportunity and she whipped her remaining blade forward and made contact with Ontari's left calf before Ontari could dodge away. The wound was superficial at best however and Ontari quickly recovered. She countered with a savage downward blow towards the top of Lexa's skull. After aiming so low, Lexa had to bring her own sword up a ways to parry and she managed just in time. Now she was glad for sacrificing her other blade, for it took a two-handed grip on her sword to stop Ontari from pushing Lexa's blade down into her own head. Lexa knew that it had left her whole body exposed however and she was already prepared for the push kick that Ontari delivered to her thigh. It certainly wasn't as powerful as Lexa herself could manage, but it was enough to unbalance her on the uneven surface of the stairway. Lexa hopped back down to the stair below, giving herself the clearance to catch her bearings and readjust the grip on her weapon.

With the space granted to her, Ontari took her chance and instead of follow Lexa back down, she wheeled around and began to sprint up the stairs. Ontari had no doubt grown tired of the precarious arena. Lexa felt her nostrils flare as she took up the chase, the length of her strides making up for Ontari's greater gymnastic ability, as Lexa scrabbled up the stairway and closed the distance between them once again. A few times, she got close enough to take a swipe at Ontari's feet with her sword, but Ontari would leap away just in the nick of time.

The pursuit went on up and up the tower, until they had risen a good quarter of the way up. Lexa saw as Ontari swiveled about again, for she had reached a decent stretch of intact stairwell and was once again confident enough to go on the offensive. Ontari waited for Lexa to catch up to her and Lexa's blade sang forward in front of her as she closed the rest of the distance. Ontari parried the blow, and then another, and another. They had come to a stop, Ontari obviously trying to use her higher position to her advantage now that she was in a relatively stable part of the stairway.

The air filled with the clanging of weapons as the pair dueled, switching from offensive to defensive with each flourish until eventually both Lexa and Ontari jolted their swords forward in simultaneous attack. The blades met and stuck together in a sword lock between their bodies. Lexa immediately began to put her weight into her weapon, forcing Ontari's blade down and over the gap at the edge of the stairs. Ontari responded with her own strength, trying to push back towards the wall, and safety. Still, Lexa had the better leverage from her position and Ontari could not force the swords to move. Instead she suddenly let go of her weapon, letting it fall away. With no force pushing back against her any longer, Lexa felt herself fall sideways, towards the edge. She planted her foot to keep herself from going over, but she was still dangerously close to toppling. Ontari showed no mercy and in the time granted to her whilst Lexa tried not to fall, she unsheathed a dagger from her thigh and thrust it towards Lexa's cheek. Lexa raised her left arm to block and she launched herself away from the edge as she checked the strike, forcing Ontari's own arm back with her until it was trapped against the wall. Still reeling from her close call however, Lexa could do nothing to deflect Ontari's other fist and it jabbed sharply against her mouth. Lexa tried not to wince as her teeth clattered together.

Ontari managed to wrestle her arm free and Lexa was forced back down the stairs as Ontari switched the direction of their progress. Ontari slashed and jabbed her dagger forward as Lexa backtracked, always staying just out of reach. On the stairway it was too dangerous for Ontari to risk reaching out too far. Lexa went as fast as she dared, but instead of backing all the way down, once she had cleared a floor she backed towards the door that would lead back into the tower proper. She quickly went through it, slamming it shut before Ontari could follow. Lexa braced the door with her back as Ontari tried to kick her way through from the other side. Lexa planted her feet and turned herself into a sturdy barricade whilst she took her own dagger from its sheath. She took a reverse grip on the weapon and then, after taking a breath, she darted away and to the side of the door. Ontari came barreling through thanks to the sudden lack of resistance and she only just managed to wheel herself around as Lexa executed her first attack with her dagger. Ontari dodged the blade by bending back at the waist and then as she came back up, she swiped her own dagger forward. Lexa twisted away to the side, and Ontari's slash caught and ripped a tapestry on the wall rather than Lexa's throat.

Still Ontari came however, her dagger zipping in front of her in a flurry of elegant moves that Lexa's eyes struggled to keep track of. All Lexa could do was to keep dodging backwards, her speed keeping her just out of harm's way. At least she knew the tower better than Ontari did and even reversing, Lexa used the decorations on the wall to keep track of where they were so that it was she who dictated their direction and not her attacker. They were on one of the servant's levels. Lexa kept moving and Ontari kept coming, dagger brandished before her. Lexa kept her own dagger raised to protect her throat from incoming thrusts and she pressed her left side close to the wall as she reversed to minimise Ontari's target. Still, Lexa had no chance of making her own attack, she could not risk misjudging the timing of a counter-thrust, or she would only end up losing fingers.

Lexa felt as her left shoulder bumped against something on the wall and she saw an opportunity. She raised her elbow up to dislodge the offending item; a framed portrait, and the picture came tumbling off of the wall fixing and onto Ontari. It was enough of a surprise to throw off Ontari's rhythm and at last Lexa had an opening. She came forward with her own vicious set of slashes. Ontari was certainly the better fighter with daggers and she soon recovered and matched Lexa's pace, but at least now it was an actual confrontation rather than a chase. The opponents fell into an unrelenting dance of attacks and counters as they worked through the corridors.

Ontari blocked one of Lexa's thrusts by grabbing at Lexa's wrist. She brought her own dagger in towards Lexa's stomach and Lexa countered using the same technique until they were in a grapple. Lexa kicked the bottom of her boots down onto Ontari's feet, hoping to unbalance her enough to get the upper hand. But Ontari's resistance to pain seemed to be considerable, for she did not falter and the two of them span through the corridor as neither let go of their grip on the other's wrist, for doing so would only free up the opponents dagger to finish its strike.

Lexa dug her heels into the floor to try to stop their spinning. She tightened her grip on Ontari's wrist and began to try to twist it. Ontari countered by suddenly dropping onto her knees, her own hold on Lexa bringing her down too. Ontari managed to angle her blade upwards so that Lexa had to force herself to fall awkwardly to the side or risk stabbing herself and at last their hold on each other broke. Lexa found herself on her back and she barely moved her face out of the way in time as Ontari bared down upon her, bringing her dagger down in a thrust towards Lexa's eyes. Instead the dagger hit the stone tile floor with such force that the tip of the blade splintered off and Lexa yelped as the debris caught her in the left cheek as it flew away. She felt the warmth of the duel's first blood on her face and caught Ontari's cruel smirk in response.

Ontari brought her broken dagger up, the splintered end still deadly, and tried another strike. This time Lexa managed to raise her palm up and she smacked it sharply into Ontari's wrist, swatting the dagger out of her grip. Lexa immediately followed up, bringing her own dagger, which she had thankfully kept a tight hold of in her right hand during her tumble, in a horizontal thrust towards Ontari's side. Ontari halted the dagger's progress by blocking Lexa's arm with her forearm, but Lexa had been anticipating that type of counter. She dropped her attack arm back to the floor, causing Ontari to start falling sideways over her. Before she ended up draped across Lexa's body, Lexa brought up her right leg and she wrapped it around Ontari's throat.

Once she had a tight grip, Lexa shifted her weight, twisting to come to a kneeling position, with Ontari's neck caught in a deadly lock between her calf and thigh. Ontari tried to fight Lexa off with desperate fists, but the angle wasn't good enough to put any decent amount of force into them and Lexa withstood the blows without much flinching. She pressed all of her weight downwards and tried to choke the life out of Ontari. It seemed to be working because Ontari's legs began to thrash and kick out as she ran out of air. Lexa thought she had it, but then she felt a horribly sharp pain as Ontari pinched hard against the inside of Lexa's right thigh. The sting caused Lexa to jerk and her weight lifted off of Ontari's throat long enough to allow her opponent a much needed breath. Ontari's legs stopped thrashing and, reinvigorated by the intake of air, Ontari managed to stretch up and wrap her arm around the back of Lexa's neck. She pulled Lexa forward and down over her body to further release the pressure on her throat. Lexa turned her face so that her cheek, rather than her nose, made contact with the floor and before she could react, Ontari had struggled completely free. Lexa felt as Ontari's knee came down hard against the bottom of her spine. Lexa grit her teeth and tried not to groan, but even if she had, the noise would have been cut off as Ontari's arm locked about her throat and now it was Lexa being robbed of air.

Lexa struggled against the chokehold, trying to bring her hands up from where they were trapped underneath her to pry Ontari's arm away. Ontari halted her progress a moment by using her free hand to scratch against Lexa's cheek, long nails catching where the debris from her dagger had already broken Lexa's skin. Lexa hissed as the nails dragged down her cheek, but the cruelty of Ontari's tactics only inspired Lexa to respond in kind. As her chest began to tighten painfully from the lack of air, still Lexa struggled. She finally managed to get a grip on Ontari's arm with both her hands and she mauled it away from her throat. She could feel her shoulder muscles burn as she manhandled Ontari's arm up over her chin. Then Lexa snapped out, her neck jutting forward so that she caught the soft part of Ontari's hand, just below the thumb, between her teeth. She clamped her jaw down, squeezing until she felt her teeth break through skin. The unmistakable taste of nightblood coated Lexa's tongue and still she gnawed into Ontari's hand. Ontari began to yell in pain, a yell that turned into a screech as Lexa finally tore her teeth, and a chunk of Ontari's palm with them, away.

Turning her head, Lexa watched as Ontari scrabbled away, clutching her bloodied hand in the other. Lexa took her chance and finally got back up onto her feet. She glared down at Ontari and then, and only then, did she spit the piece of Ontari's flesh out of her mouth towards the pretender's feet. She saw Ontari's eyes widen, and then Lexa advanced upon her, teeth bared and blackened with her opponents blood. Before Lexa could reach Ontari, she jumped onto her own feet, pivoted, and tore off down the corridor, the dual giving way to a chase yet again. Lexa bombed after Ontari, trailing her through a myriad of corridors towards the centre of the tower. Lexa saw immediately what Ontari was trying to do and she picked up her speed. Yet she was still too far behind and Lexa ground to a halt and watched as Ontari lept down into the elevator shaft, only to come rushing back up and past the floor as the elevator made its journey up the tower. Lexa was way too late to catch the continuously moving lift herself, and so instead she approached the elevator shaft and lept from the floor to the metal ladder that ran the length of the tower.

She began to climb up after Ontari, knowing that by the time she reached the throne room level- for that is undoubtedly where Ontari was headed- she would be tired out from the ascent whereas Ontari will have had a nice respite as the elevator did the climbing for her. It could be the thing that finally separated the evenly matched opponents, Lexa knew.

Lexa continued ever upwards, her already tired legs beginning to burn even as she tried to pace herself. She needed to find the balance between not going so fast that she reached total exhaustion, but not going so slow as to give Ontari even more time to recuperate. She had to pause her ascent and jump to the floor of her quarters to allow the elevator to pass by, for it had already reached the very top of the tower and was on its long way back down. Lexa briefly entertained the idea of simply making her way to her room. Perhaps she could take her own rest on the couch and force Ontari to come looking for her. Despite her weariness, Lexa did not want to delay the culmination of the duel any longer and so she jumped back to the ladder and finished making her way up the rest of the floors to the throne room level.

Ontari was not waiting in plain sight at the entrance to the elevator shaft as Lexa expected her to be. Lexa guessed that she was instead concealed against the wall, no doubt hoping that Lexa would assume the way to be clear and to make her jump, only for Ontari to spring out of hiding and send her plummeting to her death. To avoid that, Lexa continued on up the ladder. It only went up one more level, where the elevator itself did not go for it was only used by the guards that kept watch around the flame at the building's very pinnacle. Lexa carefully turned about on the ladder so that she was balanced on it the wrong way. She extended her arms and leaned out over the gap, and Lexa avoided looking down any further than the floor she needed to be on. She took a deep breath and then let go of the ladder with her hands, simultaneously pushing herself forward with her feet before she started falling, so that she dropped in a diagonal manner, down and across towards the exit to the throne room level. Her dive cleared the lip of the floor by some way and she braced her hands out for contact. She used them to catch her fall and propelled herself into a forward roll that absorbed the momentum of her brief flight.

The landing stuck and Lexa emerged from her leap unscathed and a safe distance away from the long drop. Lexa picked herself up and span on her heel, expecting at attack. She just about managed to raise her hands to protect her face as Ontari blazed forward from where she had indeed been hiding against the wall. Lexa batted away a bruising attack of punches and then responded with her own flurry. Ontari's own counters were stronger than Lexa's after her rest, and Ontari managed to make a grab at Lexa where her neck met her shoulders. Lexa expected to be forced into another chokehold, but instead Ontari got in close and then threw her head to the side in a brutish headbutt that almost made Lexa's jaw pop. Lexa reeled back from the force of the blow, but Ontari did not let go of her grip. She let herself be carried forward too rather than let Lexa get out of her reach. Lexa responded to this by raising up both of her arms, palms flat, and she clapped her hands hard against Ontari's ears. Ontari let out a feral growl and let up her grip on Lexa's shoulders so that she could grab at both her wrists instead. Lexa felt as the blood that still wept from Ontari's palm coated her skin as Ontari began to twist her arms about. Lexa tried to snatch her hands away without letting Ontari snap any bones and her back met the wall with a thud. She felt as Ontari began to push her left hand down and Lexa furrowed her brow at the unexpected change of tactic. Then she hissed as she felt a burning against her palm as her hand was forced over one of the candles that lined the corridor. Lexa bit her cheek against the pain and rather than resist, she let her hand go limp so that it covered the candle and put out the flame sooner. Lexa did not let the pain stall her and she jutted a knee up and caught Ontari's forearm just below the elbow so that Ontari finally relented her grip on Lexa's now burnt left hand. With it free, Lexa reached further down and took a hold against the long candlestick. Ignoring the way her grip made the burn hurt more, she swung the candlestick up haphazardly and bashed it into Ontari's other arm, so that Ontari let go of her other wrist too.

With both hands free, Lexa yanked the candle out of the stick and hurled its weight towards Ontari's face. Ontari managed to raise her arms against it, but Lexa immediately followed up by swinging the candlestick itself forward, brandishing it like a longsword. She chopped it forward into Ontari's ribs, once, twice, and the second time earned her a yelp. She tried once more, but this time Ontari managed to make a grab at the makeshift weapon and, with a little fumbling, she caught the incoming blow in both hands. The opponents struggled, both of them trying to claim the metal ornament come weapon off of the other, the force of their tugs causing them to spin further down the corridor until they were drawing close to the large double doors that led into the throne room.

Lexa broke the spiralling pattern by pushing rather than pulling at the candlestick and she forced it into Ontari's abdomen. There wasn't enough force to wind Ontari, but it did loosen her grip on the object long enough for Lexa to claim it back. She tried for another swing, this time angling it towards Ontari's face, but Ontari ducked and dived forward into Lexa's knees and both of them heaped onto the floor.

Before Lexa could attack, Ontari messily tumbled over her and then Ontari was dashing away again.

"Open the doors!" Lexa heard Ontari screech and then she heard the groan of the throne room doors being parted by the guards that always stood before them.

Not wanting Ontari to be the first into the room, Lexa jumped onto her feet and she sprinted at full pelt, extending her long legs as far as she could so that she was kicking at Ontari's heels and then she made a tackle of her own so that they fell into the throne room simultaneously. The red carpet that led to the throne itself cushioned their violent fall just slightly. The pair scrapped on the floor a while, both trying and failing to get the other to submit to one chokehold or another. Their attacks had grown desperate and ugly by now, neither giving any thought to their form and instead focusing simply on trying to keep the other down. Ontari was the first to get back onto her feet from the struggle, but Lexa followed suit and kicked out against the back of Ontari's leg as she rose up. The blow caused Ontari to stumble back to her knees.

Lexa could feel her own knees shaking with exertion as she approached Ontari once again. Before she could reach her, Ontari had already sprang up onto her feet and she smashed an unexpected elbow back. The sharp strike made considerable contact with Lexa's upper abdomen and an anguished cry of pain ripped out of Lexa's lips before she could think to prevent it, for the blow had caught her right against her healing bullet wound. She had been lucky up to now, but that single bit of hard contact had Lexa writhing back in agony. It gave Ontari all the time she needed to whirl herself about to face Lexa and then she stalked forward like a predator readying to make a kill strike. Lexa's vision swam as she felt an uppercut make contact with her chin. Her head snapped backwards and her legs turned to jelly. It was moments before Lexa realised that she had been caught in another hold and then she felt herself being dragged by the neck further into the room and up onto the plinth on which the throne was positioned.

At last Lexa's vision came back into proper focus and her eyes grew wide as she realised that her throat was being pushed down towards one of the blades that adorned the backrest of her throne. Lexa immediately made a grab at the wooden parts of the seat and she used her grip to give her some leverage to try to push herself away, her tight hold making her burned palm sting horribly. She pushed back against Ontari with all her might, but Lexa knew that she was all but spent and she could not even halt Ontari's force, let alone get the better of it. Lexa realised then that if she still had the chip, she could use what little time she had to go into the trance state that would lessen her perception of pain. Then, like she had during the duel with Roan, she could have gripped at the blade itself and prevented it from piercing her throat. Lexa knew that trying such a stunt without the flame to help her would be futile and only bring about her end that much sooner.

For the first time since the start of the duel, Lexa thought to the crowd of people outside, no doubt still gathered about the tower waiting for news. She thought of how they had rallied around her and chanted her title, how their respect and care for her had washed over Lexa on her march through the capital. Lexa thought about how she had watched the city come alive in wonder and how she had turned and found that awe reflected in Clarke's face as Clarke marched right at her side. As the blade made contact with Lexa's throat at last, Lexa thought of how she had intended to show Clarke around Polis properly. She tried to imagine what Clarke's face might look like, the first time she tried a freshly baked cake from the market; or the first time she took in the view of the city from the sparring circle where the nightbloods used to practice. She imagined them stealing away into hidden corners to share a moment of intimacy, and maybe even eventually, being brave enough to go about the capital hand-in-hand.

Lexa realised that the blade against her throat was rather blunt and it had only just started the break her skin. Her hands still gripped against the wood of the throne and though her arms shook, Lexa felt as one last rush of strength wrapped itself about her bones, as she vowed to herself that simply imagining a future spent with Clarke and her people was never going to be enough anymore. Lexa took a chance. She let go of the throne with one hand and she whipped her hand backward towards Ontari's face. She heard a hiss as her middle finger came into contact with an eyeball and Lexa felt as Ontari's grip on her faltered. Lexa gave a growl of effort and she pushed back against Ontari with renewed vigour until her throat was well away from the blade that had nearly killed her, and then Lexa managed to straighten up completely. She stomped her heel down onto the top of Ontari's foot and when she felt Ontari flinch, she finally broke out of her opponents hold completely.

A blow hit Lexa in the side, but Lexa barely felt it, her focus now unwavering. She turned to face Ontari and connected a right hook against Ontari's cheek. She didn't wait before throwing another punch, and then another, alternating between each hand in perhaps the most desperately violent assault Lexa had ever made against someone since her conclave. The onslaught drove Ontari back behind the throne and out onto the balcony. Lexa barely even saw her opponent, she simply barrelled her fists forward over and over and over, leaving no chance for Ontari to even consider blocking the punches. It was only when Lexa had Ontari teetering on the very edge of the balcony that Lexa managed to process the sight before her. Her fists stopped flying as Lexa regarded Ontari a moment, the pretender on the brink of falling. Lexa realised that she could see the same glimmer of fear in Ontari's eyes that she had seen in Luna's during the final bout of the conclave. It did not give her pause this time however.

Without second thought, Lexa growled as she raised up her right leg and then pommeled it forward in a devastating kick that pushed Ontari the rest of the way off the edge of the balcony. Ontari let out a cry as she plummeted down. Lexa kept her head raised proudly, not bothering to watch the descent of her beaten opponent. From this high up, she could not hear the sound of Ontari crashing to the ground, nor did she hear the eruption of cheers from her people far below. But when Lexa finally allowed herself to accept the fact of her victory and glance down to the market place, she could see the way the crowd stretched back through the city. It was a blur of shapes from so far up, but even so, Lexa swore that from her vantage point, she could spy an unmistakable blonde head at the very front of the crowd.

* * *

Octavia paced down the corridor towards the cell room, clutching tightly at a farming hoe as she went. She had been instructed by Jaha, of all people, to deliver the news to the three remaining prisoners that they were to be put to work in the small farming area in the camp exterior. It had been all but neglected over the course of Pike's reign and needed to be put back right. Octavia thought that bringing a piece of farming equipment along with her would be quite the nice touch. At the moment, it was giving her fist something to squeeze against as she tried to shake off her distaste at having to follow instructions from Jaha. She understood Abby's decision to leave the Chancellor's pin in his care whilst she was absent from the camp, he did have the most political experience out of anyone still standing. Even so, Octavia wasn't exactly the most forgiving person. She intended to take Abby's request for her, and the other council members Clarke elected, to keep a close eye on Jaha very seriously for as long as she remained in the camp.

The cell room door whizzed open as Octavia shot her free hand out to hit the panel and she waltzed through into the room, making a beeline for her brother's cell. Her brother met her eyes immediately from where he leaned back against the wall behind the bars. He frowned at her and did not move forward.

"Is this a goodbye after all?" he asked, voice low to hide any trace of emotion.

"No. Still deciding on that one," Octavia assured. She brandished the farming equipment in front of her and then leaned it up against the wall that ran perpendicular to the bars of the cell, just out of Bellamy's reach. "I came to give you this."

"What is it?" Bellamy asked, barely paying attention to her gift.

"It's a hoe, Bell. For farming. You and the other two prisoners are being put to work. Your first task will be to sort out the land in the camp exterior. And then, pending successful negotiations for farmland outside of the settlement, you'll be moved on to working there," Octavia explained, "Under guarded supervision, of course," she added and she tried not to smirk too much as she said it.

Bellamy's face fell even further into a frown and he shot a dark look from the hoe back to her. "That's internment!" he protested. "Six of eight prisoners didn't wake up in here. And I had to watch from this cage, as those two remaining people woke up to find most of their friends gone, with no way of helping them! And now you want to set us to work, under what? Threat of being shot if we don't?"

Octavia almost sniggered at his outrage. "Yeah, just like what Pike had planned for the grounder prisoners. Before he decided to just execute them instead to make a point." She moved closer to the bars and stared her brother down, "You seemed really keen to have some land to farm when you were on Pike's leash. Now you're getting what you wished for. Besides, most of us have lost someone. But we all have to work through that and pull our weight if we're to have a chance in hell of making this camp work in the long run," Octavia's voice was harsh, she found that she could not hold her contempt back.

"Not all of us are pulling our weight, though. Some are running away again and leaving it to everyone else to pick up the pieces," Bellamy muttered petulantly.

Octavia felt as her contempt for her brother flared into genuine anger. "You aren't seriously trying to attack Clarke for returning to Polis?"

Bellamy did not reply, but Octavia caught the way he straightened up and that was enough. She shook her head in disbelief.

"You know, apart from the fact that we weren't doing too badly without her in the three months she was AWOL," Octavia seethed, "Clarke was doing right by us in Polis until you and Pike sabotaged all of her efforts with your trigger-happy agenda. And now that she's come back to Arkadia to clean your mess up, she's going back to what she thinks she's best at. Where she feels most at home. We need to learn to live alongside the grounders. And to do that, we need to respect our place as the thirteenth clan in the Commander's coalition. There's so much good that Clarke can and will do for us as our Ambassador."

"Do you honestly think that's the real reason she's gone back?" Bellamy argued.

Octavia let out a sigh of exasperation and she gave a shrug. "I do think that. But yeah, I'm not an idiot. I know that wanting to be with Lexa probably factored into her decision too-"

"After what Lexa did to us!" Bellamy cut in,

"And Lincoln held me captive in a hole in the ground when we first met," Octavia shot back, "Clarke's in love with Lexa, she's happy with Lexa. And if you're Clarke's friend like you claim to be, then you'd be happy for her. Even if that were the only reason for her going back to Polis."

"We need her here," Bellamy tried again, but his voice had lost its force by now.

"Why? To keep you in line? You're a grown man, Bell. And Clarke isn't your Mother. Neither am I in fact, though here I am lecturing you like I could be," Octavia drawled out. "Start taking responsibility for your own skrish, Bellamy. And don't stand before me expecting forgiveness for all you've done, if you won't entertain the idea of trying to forgive people yourself."

Octavia had by now had enough of the sight of her brother and so she turned to leave. She stopped before she left and regarded the hoe once more, and then she turned back towards Bellamy's cell. "You start work tomorrow," she called to him, "I hope you find yourself as comfortable handling farming equipment as you do a gun. Because as long as I _am_ sticking around Arkadia, I will do everything I can to make sure you never get to lay your hands on one of those things ever again."

Turning on her heel, Octavia left the room. She took in a long breath as she tried to calm herself down, though the waning of her anger only gave way to a sort of emptiness in her gut. She was almost sure by now that the rift between her and her big brother was too wide to ever fully heal. And whilst she thought that he deserved all of her scorn, still it was a sort of loss for her to take as well.

Octavia grit her teeth and she made off to find Lincoln. Murphy and Raven's expedition would be leaving soon and Octavia wanted to accompany the rover and give Helios a much needed ride out. Besides that, she knew being around Lincoln and her friends again would help lift her mood immeasurably.

* * *

Lexa winced as the rough bandage scraped against the burn on her left palm as Clarke wrapped the fabric tightly around the wound. Clarke made no apology for the discomfort and Lexa did not expect her to; the pain caused by wrapping her hand still beat leaving it unattended and prone to infection.

"That's it, you're all done," Clarke announced as she put a final knot in the fabric.

Lexa raised her hand and flexed it experimentally. The bandage was well done, as she had come to expect from Clarke by now. She couldn't help but to be reminded of the night after the duel with Roan, when Clarke had insisted on changing Lexa's bandage for her. Lexa had not protested, though the wrapping had been changed barely an hour before she'd gone to visit Clarke's room. The feeling of Clarke's hand gently tending to her own had made Lexa's heart thud, a moment of actual contact between them after so much distance, both physical and mental. Now Lexa turned and gave Clarke a grateful smile for her handiwork. The action caused an uncomfortable tug on her split lip and Clarke must have seen the pain in Lexa's face for she made a small noise of sympathy and reached out to brush her thumb soothingly over the offending cut. Lexa felt herself gulp at the stark comparison between where she and Clarke were now to where they had been the last time Clarke patched her up.

"Well Commander, I guess I should take it as a compliment to my skill that you don't look that much worse than when we fought," King Roan's voice cut into the moment and Clarke's hand fell away from Lexa's lips.

Lexa raised her head and regarded the King from where she was sat on the edge of the dias on which her throne was situated. He had moved to stand just before her and he looked down at her with his arms folded across his chest.

"I looked terrible after our dual. You insult me King Roan," Lexa answered back, though her tone was light.

The King had quite surprised Lexa by being the first person to make it up to the throne room after the duel was over and Lexa victorious, if a little worse for wear. Lexa had been alarmed by his appearance at first, convinced that he had rushed up to finish what Ontari could not manage herself. It would have been an easy victory to take with Lexa already injured and exhausted. Instead, Roan had announced to her that the healers had been sent for and were on their way, and in the meantime he had brought his own remedy for her ailments; a small bottle of alcohol that was used both for drinking and disinfecting wounds. Lexa had opted for the former use - after she had insisted that King Roan take a drink from the bottle first himself. That bottle now sat empty beside Lexa, for it had proven to be the perfect distraction for the aches and twinges of getting her numerable injuries tended to. It had been a small gesture from the King, but a meaningful one.

"Almost as much as you insulted me when you beat and ridiculed me in front of the whole city," Roan shot back.

Lexa narrowed her eyes; "Something that I will do again if you keep pushing," she said and then Lexa tried to rise from her sitting position. She let out a groan as her whole body protested against her efforts and she promptly fell back onto the dias with a resolute thud. "If you'd just give me a season or so to recover first," she added.

She heard Clarke let out a breathy laugh and Lexa turned back to her, eyebrow cocked.

"Can you both make it a least four seasons?" she asked, her nose wrinkled with amusement.

Lexa motioned a hand to Roan and watched as he made a show of considering Clarke's request.

"How about we try to put aside all our past transgressions and aim for peace that lasts many seasons, until we are all old and grey, and unable to walk?" the King offered,

"I think one of us has already reached that last part," Clarke pointed out and then she stood up and offered her hand out. Lexa took it gratefully and allowed herself to be pulled up onto her feet. "But I say you've got yourself a deal, King Roan," Clarke finished once Lexa was stood upright.

Lexa looked from Clarke to the King, to a man that she honestly believed could become a close friend and ally over the years. She enjoyed his dry sense of humour, and the gesture with the drink had revealed a deep-rooted kindness in the man that perhaps nobody would have expected to find. The very idea of Trikru and Azgeda finding lasting peace with one another, after vicious feuding that had begun the moment the two clans had first encountered one another and lasted all the years since, gave Lexa such a sense of hope. It bolstered her and seemed to make her bruised and weary legs just a little easier to stand on. Then again, she mused, that could just be the numbing effect of the alcohol she'd downed.

"Heda!" Fleimkepa Titus's voice pierced through the throne room, and the contentedness that had settled within Lexa vanished in an instant.

Lexa shared a dark look with Clarke. Once Clarke had managed to shoo all of the other healers away, their discussion had turned to Titus's fate. They had discussed what could be done with him in hushed whispers as Clarke had tended to the scratches that marred Lexa's cheek. Now it was time to voice what had been decided upon to the Fleimkepa himself. Lexa snapped her attention to Roan.

"Leave us," she requested, terse but not impolite.

The King motioned his head respectfully and moved away, just in time for his spot to be taken by Titus. The Fleimkepa's face was severe as it ever was, betraying none of the man's feelings and giving the usual impression of permanent consternation.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa saw how Clarke squared herself up and positioned herself as close to Lexa's side as she could get without them brushing hands. The formation seemed rather familiar by now.

"Fleimkepa Titus. It is good to see that you are well," Lexa spoke first, her voice low and even so that she did not betray just yet that she was bearing bad news for him.

"Likewise, Heda. When I heard news of your return to the capital so soon, I must admit I was worried about the chances of your success. But know that I am beyond thrilled that it was you who achieved victory today," Titus answered.

"It was a close call," Lexa admitted, "Ontari was a formidable opponent."

"Then fighting was the only area in which Ontari showed any true discipline. Her incompetence may have made it easier for me to stall the pretender's efforts to take the throne legitimately, but it has been difficult to watch as she let our capital fall to disorder. It is little surprise that the city rallied around you, and I look forward to serving you as Fleimkepa for many years to come, Heda," Titus said, and to Lexa his words sounded like the buzzing of insects. He was saying all the right things, but she found that she could not be moved by them.

Lexa decided that there was little use in delaying what she had to tell him. "Titus, join me on the balcony a moment. There is something I wish to discuss with you in private," Lexa said firmly.

She was sure she caught the barest glimmer of fear flash in Titus's eyes at her request, but the Fleimkepa complied and together they moved out onto the balcony where Lexa had achieved her victory, leaving Clarke behind in the throne room.

Lexa stayed silent a moment longer as she stopped and looked out over Polis. The sun was beginning to set and it bathed the city in a fiery orange glow.

"Heda?" Titus prompted.

Lexa swallowed and she turned to the man who had advised her for six years, and taught her since she was two. She tried to think of what to tell him first.

"Titus, I am relieving you of your duties as Fleimkepa," Lexa finally let out. She watched as confusion passed over Titus's face, and then something that wasn't quite anger.

"You know you cannot do that. The Fleimkepa's position is by all intents above your own, so sacred is their duty to protect the flame of the Commander," Titus responded sternly.

Lexa resisted the urge to chew on her bottom lip, both because she knew it would disturb the cut and because Titus would no doubt pick up on it and detect her nervousness. She raised herself to her full height and hardened her stare. "I no longer possess the flame," she said.

Confusion returned to Titus's face. Perhaps he thought she was playing an elaborate prank on him. Though it had been years since her last attempt, it certainly wouldn't have been the first. "What do you mean, Lexa?" he asked, foregoing her title.

"It was needed to aid Arkadia and so I allowed Clarke to cut it out of my neck to save the settlement," Lexa answered and then she carefully lifted her hair up away from her neck and turned her body to reveal the gauze that covered her stitches.

"You gave up the spirit to save Skaikru?" Titus whispered, his voice dripping with disapproval.

"Why? Do you disagree with a Commander's decision to make a sacrifice to better serve her people? Your teachings over the years would suggest otherwise." Lexa went on the defensive. She reminded herself of the part Titus had played in getting them all into the mess that they were now only just emerging from.

"A sacrifice that destroys the very culture of our people, our clan, is not comparable to making personal sacrifices," Titus argued.

"What have I destroyed?" Lexa shot back, "Our people already believe in lies. They never knew the true nature of the flame. And if they do not learn of it now, then none of our beliefs need be shaken."

"That isn't the point-" Titus started,

"That's exactly the point, Titus," Lexa cut in, her voice growing intense, "We knew that our clan would not survive finding out that the spirit of the Commander was held within a piece of old world technology, and so we kept that fact from them. And there is more still that was kept from us. Did you know that the tech was defective, Titus?"

"Defective?" Titus repeated and Lexa was honestly surprised that he sounded genuine in his confusion. She had always expected that the Fleimkepa was made privy to even more information regarding the old world than the Commander was. Finding out that he too had been duped, had dedicated his life to something he did not understand at all, almost made the loss of his title's meaning sad.

"Yes. I spoke to Promheda Beka just before I gave the flame up. She tried to explain to me what the chip had originally been created for. She also admitted that it did not function properly, for the technology could not truly understand the complexities of human nature. In short, she told me that the chip, and the echoes of the previous Commander's held within it, have all played a part in fostering the violence that has always plagued our society. The technology can understand war. It can understand strategy and ruthless decision making. It cannot fathom compassion. Or kindness. Or love. That is the legacy you have dedicated your life to serving, Titus. And it is that which I am now ordering you to stand down from," Lexa finished.

Titus's eyes were like beads as he stared her down. "It is my duty to serve the will of the Commander's spirit, regardless of it's faults. That's what it means to have faith."

"That's what it means to be a fanatic." Lexa spat, "If you hold greater esteem for an idea, than the people whose lives are influenced by that idea, then you do not have people's best interests at heart. And you certainly have no place in the future of the Kongeda."

"What future? How will you even find your successor without the conclave?" Titus chided.

"That is something that I will consider in the coming days. And none of your concern any longer," Lexa replied.

She saw as Titus's shoulders sagged as the man finally seemed to realise that she wasn't going to back down. The loss of the flame had made his title obsolete, but it was his own bullheaded devotion to the worst aspects of their culture that left him completely without merit in Lexa's eyes.

"What is to be done with me? Am I to go the same way as the pretender, is that why you brought me out here?" Titus asked.

Lexa almost laughed in his face, "That would be your way, not mine, Titus. I am not going to kill you," she said, "I am simply releasing you from your duties. I was even going to allow you to remain in the tower, only Clarke expressed great displeasure at the notion of sharing her home with the man who shot me in a failed attempt to murder her. You are however, free to make yourself a home in the capital outside of the tower."

Titus's mouth was agape as Lexa told him of his fate. "And what should I do then?" he asked, his voice fearful.

Lexa knew then that she and Clarke had arrived at the right decision to allow Titus to live. The prospect of being cast out of the tower and stripped of all sense of duty was no doubt one of the most terrifying prospects to a man who had dedicated himself to a life of serving a set of beliefs and rules already well established. The uncertainty of a life without those rules was greater punishment than death ever could be. Or perhaps, a greater salvation.

Lexa regarded the man who had helped to raise her with soft eyes now. He had not always been cruel to her, his devotion to the flame had not always completely masked that there was a deeply caring and thoughtful man behind it all. She wondered if Titus could manage to realise that himself. She knew from experience that remembering one's true self after years of keeping it hidden was a difficult thing to do. She reached out and placed her uninjured right hand on Titus's shoulder.

"I want you to live, Titus," she said simply, "Happily, in fact. If you can manage it."

The ex-Fleimkepa looked like he was about to throw up another protest, but he was interrupted by a new, young voice emanating from just inside the throne room.

"Heda?"

Lexa felt her jaw slacken and she spun around. There before her, with Indra at his side, was Aden.

"I'm sorry, Commander, are we interrupting?" Indra asked.

Lexa looked back to Titus, "No. No you're not, we're finished here," she stated and she gave the man a meaningful look.

Titus faltered a moment, then he bowed his head in defeat and turned to go. He stopped as he passed Aden. "I am glad that you survived, natblida Aden," he said. Aden gave no response, as though he was already wise to the fact that he no longer needed to show Titus respect if he did not wish to. Titus continued on and Lexa tried to put him out of her mind as she moved back into the tower too.

She looked Aden over, to make sure that he was unhurt, and once she was satisfied that the boy was all in one piece, she stepped forward and enveloped him into a hug. Aden returned it enthusiastically.

"It is good to see you, goufa," Lexa said and she stroked his hair, her hand coming away red for he had dyed his blonde mop with berries.

"I spotted him pushing his way to the front of the crowd," Indra explained.

Lexa's brow creased and she broke the hug and looked down at Aden sternly. "Why were you still in Polis?" she asked.

Aden gave a sheepish look. "I didn't want to leave the city. Just in case some of the other nightbloods had survived. Or if things started to go really bad before you returned, I thought I'd be able to come and find you," Aden admitted.

"That was reckless of you, Aden," Lexa chastised, though his bravery made her proud.

"Yes it was," Clarke's voice chimed in as she moved to join the little group now that Titus was out of the way, "Just like a certain somebody I know staying far too close to Arkadia, just in case they were needed," she pointed out, her eyebrows raised in playful accusation.

Lexa knew that Clarke made a good point and so she decided to glaze over her hypocrisy. "Where did you stay?" she asked the boy.

Aden smiled at her and gave a shrug, "With an elder in the city outskirts. It didn't take much to convince him to take me in. Once I explained who I was, he was more than happy to help protect me. To help protect your legacy. They adore you, you know. The people in the city," he said sincerely.

Lexa felt her heart lurch at Aden's words and she returned his smile gratefully. "Oh, I can think of at least one resident who would probably disagree," Lexa replied slyly.

"What were you discussing with Titus?" Aden asked, and then, "If you can tell me," he added hurriedly. The excitement of their reunion didn't exactly foster an environment for propriety.

"I wasn't discussing anything with Titus," Lexa said, "I was firing him."

Aden's mouth fell open, "You can't do that!" he exclaimed.

Lexa gave her own shrug, "Goufa, when has that fact ever stopped me before?"

The group laughed at that, even Indra. The General regarded Lexa with eyes that sparkled with amusement.

"If I didn't know you better, Heda, I would accuse you of being quite a terrible role model for our young nightblood," Indra said, "As it is, I have to say that I'm glad that our future is in this boy's hands. He's learnt from the best."

Lexa gave a nod of thanks for the compliment, but she caught the way Aden's smile fell away at the reminder of his place as the sole surviving nightblood. Of course Indra assumed that the flame would have to pass to him in the absence of any other candidates. Lexa supposed that were she still to meet her end in the near future, then that would have to be the case, but she hoped that that would not happen.

"Our future is a little more uncertain than that," Lexa admitted to Indra, and then she turned her attention to Aden. "What if I told you that the next Heda doesn't need to be a nightblood?" she asked, "What would you want to do, Aden?"

Aden looked at her curiously a moment and then his eyes grew wide. "You're serious aren't you?"

Lexa gave a nod. She watched as Aden carefully considered her question. "Be honest," she prompted.

Aden opened his mouth; "I guess, if I don't _have_ to be Heda after you, I'd not want to be," he admitted quietly.

"Then I will not force you to carry such a burden, if you do not wish to," Lexa responded.

"But who will succeed you, if not me?" Aden asked.

"I don't know yet. Anyone who shows promise, I suppose. The attributes of a leader are after all, not reserved to nightbloods," Lexa mused.

Aden nodded in agreement, "You'll still have to bring people to Polis to be trained. They'll need a teacher, like Titus. Well, not exactly like Titus," Aden carried on Lexa's train of thought,

"Are you putting yourself forward for the role, Aden?" Lexa asked with a smile.

"Do you think I could?" he asked, voice filled with wonder at the prospect.

"I think you would make a wonderful teacher Aden. I can think of few others I would trust more to help me to forge a legacy of peace, and to make sure that that legacy is passed onto the person who will one day take my place."

Aden grinned. "I'll do it!" he announced brightly.

It was Indra who responded, "I am sure you will, young one. But for now, it is time for you to retire. I am sure the Commander is keen to return to her own quarters, too. There will be plenty of time in the days to come to plan for the future."

Aden gave a whine of protest but he silenced when Lexa gave him a stern look. Indra was right in assuming that Lexa was quite ready to be done in the throne room for the day. The nightblood gave a bow of the head.

"Reshop, Aden," Lexa said to him.

"Reshop, Lexa," he responded, daring not to use her title. Then he turned to Clarke, "Are you staying in Polis?" he asked.

Lexa watched as Clarke gave the boy a smile. "I am," she said, "As Ambassador for Skaikru. And, well-" Clarke trailed off and she glanced towards Lexa shyly.

"That's good," Aden responded, "You make Lexa happy. You've helped her to remember why she deserves to be loved. Why she _is_ loved. Because her heart is too big to do anything but return that love tenfold."

* * *

Raven gave a hiss as her backside met the metal seat in the back of the rover with a thud.

"Watch the damn merchandise!" she moaned to Murphy and Harper, who had landed the glamorous task of lifting Raven into the vehicle. It was finally time to get their expedition under way.

"Sorry! Not much room to maneuver in here," Murphy shot back, and then he tried to take the seat next to Raven, only to be prevented by doing so as Raven matter-of-factly pulled her legs up onto the metal and stretched herself out over the three available spaces. Murphy gave her a dark look and she responded with a shrug.

"I'm supposed to keep it stretched out," Raven said, "You lot will just have to squash up."

Murphy gave a sigh and plonked himself down into the middle seat opposite Raven. Harper took the innermost seat and then, once there was room to climb in, Emori took the outer. Raven watched in amusement as Harper tried to place as much distance between her and Murphy as possible, whilst he and Emori pressed close to one another.

"Are you sure you can't make room for one more over there?" Harper whined.

"It depends on whether you want me to run out of pain meds or not," Raven stated.

She watched as Harper frowned. "I'm not going to let that happen," she said resolutely.

Raven smiled brightly. Harper had already taken charge of the supply of meds that Raven was to try to make last her the duration of their journey, mostly because they had fit inside Harper's guard jacket. Still, it was nice to know that she had a friend looking out for her. "That's funny. I thought you were just the grunt in this operation. Our point and shoot girl," Raven teased, as she normally did when she felt affection for someone.

Harper rolled her eyes, "Hey, I don't have to come. I'll get out of this rover right now and leave you all without protection," she warned.

Raven wrinkled her nose, "Emori seems pretty badass, I'm sure she'd be up to the task. But please don't leave. I may be relying on you to talk me down if spending so much time cooped up with Murphy causes a sudden change of heart and I try to murder him," Raven peered towards Emori as she spoke, "No offence but your boyfriend did shoot me in the spine," she added.

"I have been made aware of that fact," Emori replied, "I only ask that you try to give Murphy this one chance to help put things right, though I know what a pain in the ass he can be," Emori turned to Murphy with a teasing smile as she spoke, "Still, perhaps there's some honour in this thief after all," she mused.

Raven wrinkled her nose at the couple, though she had to begrudgingly admit that they made a cute pair of criminals.

"How many spare wheels does this rover have, Raven?" Harper moaned and Raven gave a laugh.

Her amusement was halted by the sound of the passenger door opening and Abby climbed into the seat. She was followed promptly by Monty, who had volunteered himself to drive the rover. Raven was glad that he was joining them on their quest. She knew that losing Jasper must have been harder on Monty than he was letting on, but at least he was choosing to do something proactive rather than sit about and stew in his grief. Being in their little group would be good for him, for all of them, Raven thought.

"Is everybody ready to go back there?" Abby spoke and she turned in her seat to look into the back of the rover, her head tilting in amusement when she saw Raven stretched out with a whole side of the vehicle to herself.

"Can't wait!" Raven responded brightly. Everyone else murmured their agreement.

"Good, that's good." Abby said, and then "Raven, I know you need to keep your leg stretched out, but don't let it rest in one position too long," Abby instructed and then she turned to the others in the back of the rover, "Maybe after a while one of you three can go and sit beside her and let her raise her leg over yours for a while? Make sure she's exercising it."

"I volunteer Harper," Murphy spoke up first, "Because Raven has already threatened violence against me and we haven't even made it out of the hangar yet, so I'm staying on this side of the rover from now on."

"You just want to stay snuggled up to your girlfriend, Murphy," Harper protested, "But sure, I can do that when Raven's ready to move herself."

Raven stretched out even further on the seats, demonstrating that she was in fact quite comfortable for the moment, despite the constant throbbing pain that shot down her left leg and would continue to do so for the rest of her life if they didn't find anything to help her. She felt suddenly impatient to leave. "Are we there yet?" she murmured.

She felt the engine growl to life as Monty finally turned the ignition.

"No," he replied as he adjusted the rearview mirror so that he could see his passengers, "And if I hear that one more time, I will drive this thing at forty the whole way."

"That's cruel, Monty," Raven responded.

"And exactly how fast were you planning on driving?" Abby spoke up, concern in her voice.

Raven winced, she had forgotten for a moment that they had been joined by an incredibly responsible adult. It struck her then what an odd group they made. "At a safe and sensible speed, isn't that right sidekick!" Raven answered for Monty. She heard Monty laugh.

"Hey, I'm the driver. That makes me the hero and the rest of you the sidekicks," Monty argued.

"Well then, shut up and drive, hero," Raven said severely.

* * *

Lincoln heard the growl of the rover's engines as the door to the hangar opened. He felt as Octavia leaned back against his chest and Lincoln himself adjusted his position in the saddle in anticipation of their departure. The pair had decided to ride out a ways with the rover, to see their friends off on the start of their quest. Lincoln's arms were wrapped about Octavia and he held the reins tightly in front of her, tugging back on them whenever Helios began to stamp her hooves too impatiently.

Monty stuck his head out of the driver's side window and gave them a wide grin, "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

Lincoln saw as Octavia smiled back. "Born ready!" she shouted to Monty.

Monty responded by roaring the rover's engine more and Lincoln and Octavia both sniggered when they caught Abby throw him a judgmental look from where she was sat in the passenger seat. Octavia turned her head up towards Lincoln and he peered down at her with a smile.

"Go," she whispered.

Lincoln shook his head at Octavia's slyness, but he kicked his heels into Helios's sides and spurred the horse into movement. They galloped towards the gates, which opened ready to let them out of the settlement. The moment that they were outside of the camp's walls, the rover came roaring past them.

"Cheaters!" Monty called back at them, but then he slowed the rover down to a speed that the horse could keep up with. Lincoln guided Helios into a steady gallop at the rover's right side and they bombed further away from Arkadia.

"How's everyone doing in there?" Lincoln called over to Abby after they'd been travelling for some time.

He watched as she glanced into the back of the rover. "Smiles all round," she responded.

"What about you? Excited to be babysitting your merry band of delinquents?" Octavia asked.

"Oh, they are much more than that now, aren't they," Abby said.

Lincoln heard as someone opened up the hatch on the roof of the rover and then Murphy appeared out of the hole.

"I'd like to protest that," Murphy joked and he pointed to himself with both hands, "Still a thief. Dr Griffin needs to accept that she's an accomplice now."

"What happened to this being an honourable attempt to fix a mistake and to help a friend in need?" Lincoln asked bemusedly.

Murphy simply gave a shrug, before he had to grab tightly to the roof of the rover as the vehicle thundered over a particularly rough patch of grass.

Lincoln turned his attention back forwards and saw that they were already approaching the treeline. He began to slow Helios down and then both the horse and the rover came to a stop. It was time for them to part ways.

"Look after them all, Abby," Octavia said.

"I will," Abby confirmed, "And you look after Arkadia whilst we are gone. And remember to keep an eye on Jaha for me." Abby then turned her gaze to Lincoln, "I'm glad you're here, Lincoln. I know I'm leaving the medical bay in safe hands."

Lincoln bowed his head, "Octavia and I will protect the Sky people as best we can, Dr Griffin. You can count on us. Good luck out there," he said.

Lincoln saw the back of the rover open and so he wheeled Helios about and directed the horse to the back of the vehicle. He observed the faces of his friends; Raven, Harper, Murphy, and Emori, and they all smiled back.

"How are you holding up, Raven?" Lincoln asked.

Raven propped herself up on her elbows from where she was reclined along an entire row of seats. "I'm great. Excited."

"Good. Make sure to ration your pain meds," he said.

It was Harper who pulled the medication out of her guard jacket, "Don't worry, Lincoln. The responsible member of the group has that under control. I won't let her forget to take them. Or take too many."

Lincoln was glad to see the fine company joining Raven and Murphy on their quest. He had high hopes for the group's chances of success at finding something that would help Raven. He peered into the back of the rover with lightness in his heart.

"May we meet again," he said to his friends.

"May we meet again," they all responded and then Harper reached out and shut the door to the rover back up.

There was a lull of silence and then Monty roared the engines once more and the rover took off, veering to the north as it took the pathway through the trees. This time, Lincoln did not spur Helios to follow, and instead he watched the rover until it was out of view.

He heard Octavia sigh and he nudged her arm with his elbow. "Everything alright?" he asked her.

Octavia turned to him. "What if we didn't go back?" she said, "What if we just kept going, right now?"

Lincoln grimaced, but he couldn't help but to turn his face into the brilliant sunset to the west. It would be all too easy for them to just carry on riding, to leave Arkadia behind and seek out the freedom he knew they both craved. But Lincoln knew that they were needed in Arkadia. He was the only person with more than rudimentary medical knowledge left in the camp, and Octavia was an important member of the council that would no doubt play a large part in shaping Arkadia's future.

"Octavia, we should go back," he muttered, looking down at her again with soft eyes.

Octavia's nostrils flared but she nodded in agreement. "I know."

"We are welcome there, now. It wouldn't hurt to build ourselves a stable home base before we leave to find our own adventures," Lincoln urged.

"I bet the whole settlement will be out enjoying the warm night," Octavia mused, "I guess it would be nice to check in on everyone. And I'd like to speak with Sinclair," she said, "I think he should put himself forward as a candidate for the Chancellorship."

Lincoln grinned. "Let's go home, my love," he said and when Octavia gave a nod and settled herself back against him once again, Lincoln turned Helios about and they started back towards Arkadia at a gentle pace. They were not yet ready to go blazing into the sunset, but it certainly didn't hurt to take the opportunity to enjoy the sight of it together.

* * *

Clarke paced down the curving corridor towards Lexa's quarters, clutching the cloak that Lexa had left in her care in one hand. She had let Lexa go on ahead, whilst Clarke herself returned the spare healing paraphernalia that she had claimed off of the other tower healers when she'd shooed them away. The healers had kept her a while, so that Clarke could describe to them the extent of Lexa's injuries. Clarke thought that they'd asked out of personal concern for their Commander as much as professional necessity. She had also offered an apology for the way she had taken over, but none of them had taken any offence. Clarke had just needed to be the one to tend to Lexa. By the time she'd reached the throne room it had already been buzzing with other people and so she did not get the chance to share an intimate reunion as she would have liked. Taking charge of patching Lexa up had been the next best thing, a way to share physical contact that wouldn't raise too many eyebrows.

Even so, she knew that the healers had seen right through them, as had King Roan for that matter. Besides that, the whole of Polis had seen Clarke marching to the tower at Lexa's side. People were bound to have started drawing conclusions by now and Clarke was surprised that she wasn't more nervous at the prospect. In fact, it felt somewhat liberating to know that she and Lexa would probably never need to actually announce their relationship and now, Clarke walked towards Lexa's room with a light step and the thought of retiring instead to her old quarters hadn't even crossed her mind.

Clarke was shook from her musings by the sound of Lexa's door shutting and then Indra was walking towards Clarke, having just left the bedroom. Indra stopped just short of her and gave Clarke a nod,

"Ambassador," the Indra said respectfully,

"General Indra," Clarke said and she returned the gesture of respect.

Indra seemed happy to leave it at that and made to leave again, but Clarke found herself reaching her hand out towards Indra. It stopped just short of touching the woman's arm.

"Indra, wait. I feel I need to thank you," she spoke.

Indra regarded her expectantly. "For what?" she asked.

"For staying in Polis. For keeping an eye on Titus. For trusting in Lexa," Clarke listed off. Indeed there was a lot she felt grateful to Indra for.

"You do not need to thank a warrior for doing their duty, Clarke. And as for Lexa, my trust in her has been well earned by now," Indra replied confidently.

Clarke shrugged her shoulders, "Still, it's good to have you around."

Indra smiled just slightly. "The feeling is mutual, Clarke kom Skaikru," she said, and though her voice was as serious as ever, her words moved Clarke. It made her think back to what Aden had said to her, about it being good that she was staying in Polis, and she was sure that Indra was aware of the comparison. Knowing that Indra perhaps shared Aden's sentiments, though the General would never voice them so openly, was quite something.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer, General. Goodnight," Clarke said.

"Before we part, may I ask about Octavia? She did not come with you?" Indra replied.

Clarke offered a smile, "No, she and Lincoln stayed in Arkadia to help with the recovery. I think they still want to leave eventually, but for now, they stay where they feel they are needed. You should be proud of both of them," Clarke said.

"I am," Indra confirmed.

"And I'm sure that the path they take will lead them both back to your side one day, Indra. They might not realise it yet, but I think so."

"That is kind of you to say, Clarke. But if Octavia does not return to complete her training, then my only wish is that she finds peace in the path she does choose." With that Indra motioned her head once again, and then she took off past Clarke.

Clarke took a moment to gather herself. The evening had turned out to be quite the emotional experience with so many reunions, and all of it only just twenty-four hours after the reawakening of Arkadia. Clarke was surprised that her legs still had the energy to support her and she supposed it was thanks to adrenaline.

At last, she moved forward again and she barely acknowledged the guards at either side of Lexa's door before she opened one and entered the room without knocking. Clarke shut the door behind her and then looked into the space. She spotted Lexa critically assessing a muddy boot print on the couch. When Lexa detected Clarke's presence, she straightened up and turned towards the door, a smile on her face. Clarke felt her breath catch at the sight and she wondered if it always would. Then she moved forward and without a word, she wrapped Lexa into a gentle hug that Clarke felt she had been waiting an eternity to give. She absentmindedly let the cloak drop from her hands onto the couch as she embraced Lexa. It took all of her self control not to squeeze tightly now that she finally had Lexa in her arms, for Clarke knew that that would only hurt Lexa's injured body. Still, Lexa returned the hug with as much enthusiasm as she could manage and they stayed like that for a while, as if a million silent words were being passed between them as the held onto one another.

Clarke eventually stepped out of the embrace and she assessed Lexa. The bruise on her jaw had already bloomed out worse than it had been in the throne room and Clarke expected that countless other contusions had probably done the same all over Lexa's form. Despite that, Lexa seemed to be much steadier on her feet.

"How are you?" Clarke asked. It seemed too simple a question in a way.

Lexa blinked slowly. "Hurts," she replied, "Everything hurts. But I'm alright, Clarke."

"Of course you are. You had the best doctor patching you up," Clarke replied with a grin, expecting to be teased back.

"You are an incredibly skilled healer, Clarke. It is good that you recognise that," Lexa responded with utter sincerity.

Clarke felt her stomach churn and she found herself wanting to barrel into Lexa again. She pushed the urge away and changed the subject, "How did it end exactly? The duel? I mean I saw the result up close," she asked.

Lexa considered a moment, her gaze growing serious. "Ontari got in a strike against my abdomen. Whether she was aware of the placement of my wound, or whether it was a lucky strike, either way it all but knocked me out of the running. She got me into a chokehold and almost pushed my throat onto one of the blades on the back of my throne," Lexa said.

Clarke sucked in a breath, goosebumps rising on her arms at the awful images that Lexa's retelling had conjured up. "How did you break free?" she asked.

Lexa gulped. "I thought of my people. And of you," she admitted, "I realised that there was so much more that I wanted to do. And simply imagining that potential future wasn't enough anymore. I knew I had to live to see it through. That gave me the strength I needed to break Ontari's hold on me, and to emerge victorious," she whispered.

Clarke couldn't help but smile. "So love is strength?" she asked playfully.

"It would seem so," Lexa replied, and then; "It's tragic, in a way,"

"How come?"

"Knowing that now. I have no doubt that were Ontari brought to Polis, were she trained as she should have been, she would have made an excellent contender for the throne. Instead she was snatched away by Queen Nia, and raised in an environment devoid of compassion. And so by the time of my victory, there was no hope left for her," Lexa mused.

"Do you wish you hadn't of killed her?" Clarke whispered back, encouraging Lexa to open up as gently as she could.

Lexa shook her head, "No," she said quietly, "It was too late for her. As it was for Nia. And Pike." Lexa squared up again and clasped her hands behind her back, "And I am glad to have won my throne back," she said.

"As are your people," Clarke responded. "I was out there with them. I can't begin to describe the tension, but I know everyone was rooting for you. Aden was telling the truth earlier, Lexa. Your people adore you." As she said the last part, Clarke reached her hand up and traced her finger against the side of Lexa's jaw that wasn't bruised. Lexa quickly captured the hand in her own, and she brought it to her mouth and placed a kiss upon the back of it.

"Maybe," Lexa said, "Though I doubt Indra is so thrilled now that I have her running around already whilst the rest of the city celebrates."

"I was meaning to ask why she was here," Clarke said, and she had intended to ask before she'd gotten distracted by being in Lexa's presence.

"I've asked her to arrange for a care package to be sent to Arkadia as soon as possible. The food should arrive tomorrow evening, if the preparations are made overnight," Lexa explained.

Clarke felt tears forming in her eyes and she reached out and took Lexa's bandaged hand, so that she had both clasped in between them. "I love you so much, you know," Clarke spoke.

Lexa squeezed her hands tighter, even though Clarke knew that doing so must have been uncomfortable on her burnt palm. "And I love you, Clarke. Always."

Unable to hold back, Clarke leaned up and she kissed Lexa as gently as she could, right on the small freckle on Lexa's upper lip, so that she avoided contact with the cut on the other side of her mouth. She heard Lexa sigh as they parted.

Clarke beamed up at Lexa, though now they'd shared the private reunion she had been waiting for, she found that it was difficult to keep the thoughts of the challenges they would face moving forward at bay. Her brow creased and her smile fell to a serious look.

"Clarke?" Lexa prompted, immediately aware of Clarke's sudden shift in mood, "What's on your mind?"

"We've got so many things to put right. So many new things to figure out. Where do we even start? If we want to avoid the Konge-"

"Clarke," Lexa interrupted Clarke's voiced concerns with a terse click of her name, "Shhh," she added for good measure.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Lexa, but she did not open her mouth again.

"There will be time for all that in the coming days. My second ascension ceremony isn't even until tomorrow evening, so for now let us enjoy tonight without burdening ourselves with worry," Lexa suggested.

Clarke looked sheepish, "Alright," she agreed, "And what do you have planned for us?" She half expected Lexa to order them both to get some sleep.

Lexa raised her chin, "It's a beautiful evening, and our people are out celebrating in the streets. Don't you wish to join them?" she asked.

Clarke almost snorted, "Are you sure? I won't mind missing the party if you don't feel up to it." Clarke caught the way Lexa rolled her eyes at her.

"I think I've got just about enough strength left in my legs to make it down to the market, Clarke. Now will you come and enjoy Polis's celebrations with me?"

Clarke was quite sure that Lexa was pushing herself a little too hard, but the eagerness in her voice was nothing short of endearing. Clarke had always found it difficult to push her sense of duty to the back of her mind a while, so that she might enjoy a rare moment of relaxation. But she tried to do just that, for the thought of sharing such a moment with Lexa was perfect. Lexa was right. They could leave worrying about the consequences of the decisions made in the past few days for at least another night. And even if they ended up getting down to the market to join in the celebrations, only for Lexa to realise that she was not in fact up to the task, it wouldn't matter at all. They would have just as many chances to explore the city together in the future, to share peaceful moments together, as they would opportunities to attend to their duties.

"I'd like that very much, Lexa," Clarke gave her reply, "It's a date."

Lexa responded with a wide smile, a sight that Clarke knew she would always look forward to seeing. And for the first time since reaching the ground, Clarke realised that looking ahead filled her with excitement rather than dread.

With their plans for the evening decided, Clarke and Lexa made their way down the tower to join in the celebrations in the market place. The couple did not rush. For at last, they had time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duels take up so many words to write and the scene factored a lot in my decision to cut the finale into two, so consider it a double-bill special.
> 
> This more than any other chapter I've written really posed some challenges, considering that I've been trying to write this story in a style that heavily encourages you to visualise what's happening as if each chapter were in fact an episode. I would have loved to include scenes from the first moments after Arkadia woke up, but I decided to opt for the time jump after realising that doing so would take up an awful lot of description for essentially, not much payoff. Not to mention there were so many reunions and mourning scenes that I'd want to have included to do all the character's justice, it would have been a mammoth task. I do like that we join Arkadia during a more restful and recuperative moment. It isn't often the Skaikru get those...
> 
> Anyways, I waffle on. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this tale so far, I hope you'll enjoy what I have planned for my epilogue. And a big special thank you to everyone who took the time to leave kudos, or a comment. All your feedback has been a tremendous inspiration and this is now the longest piece of writing I've ever done by quite a margin! Much love.


	12. Epilogue: Someday...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year after Commander Lexa retook her throne, we rejoin Clarke and Lexa as the pair await the arrival of the farm council, a joint venture between Trikru and Skaikru. Clarke muses over the developments of the past year and Lexa finds herself growing weary of the daily political grind brought by times of extended piece. But unexpected visitors and new challenges are just around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this it for this fic folks. I hope you enjoy this short epilogue!  
> Apologies for the delay, I wanted this to be perfect for various reasons and so it took a little longer than usual.

**Epilogue: Someday...**

 

With her brow knitted in utter concentration, Clarke dragged the worn down piece of charcoal across the paper once again, the surface already blackened from several failed and erased attempts. This time, Clarke was satisfied with the result and her face relaxed. She took a moment to collect herself and in that time, she stared down at her progress. The sketch depicted Aden in the throes of sword practice, or at least it would once Clarke had finished it. So far, trying to translate the fluidity of his movement, the sense of true momentum from her mind’s eye and onto the page was proving to be quite a challenge. Not least because Clarke was certain that the young man grew about an inch every other day, which made it impossible for her to simply memorise how to capture his likeness for it was always changing.

Clarke glanced up from her work to her chosen subject. Aden was in the middle of conducting a sparring lesson with the two seconds who had so far been identified as having the potential to one day become Heda. Two pupils wasn’t a bad start for a year, Clarke thought. Now that Lexa’s successor no longer needed to be a nightblood, it had thrown the process for finding the next Commander wide open. Now, it was up to each Trikru warrior who took upon the training of a second to judge whether or not the child they mentored possessed any potential for the role. All hopefuls brought to the capital by their mentors were put through a grueling set of physical and mental challenges for assessment. The two now training with their teacher were those who had passed the tests and chosen to stay in the capital. Lexa had been adamant that those who passed the tests could still decline the offer to be trained in the capital and choose instead to resume their life as an ordinary second. Either way, those who stayed were sure to have some experience of being tutored out in the wider world, before they embarked on their training to perhaps one day take command of that world.

Now, Clarke grinned as the pupil Aden was currently sparring with almost got in a lucky backhand against Aden, but the teacher saw it coming just in time and blocked without mercy. Aden had proven himself to be an excellent teacher, kind but firm. Watching him refuse to take things easy on his class reminded Clarke of her father. Jake had been the one to teach her how to play chess growing up, and he’d never let her win a game until she had truly learned how to best him fair and square. Aden seemed to be taking the same approach.

Clarke recollected her thoughts as she realised that Aden’s counter attack put him in a similar pose to the one she was trying to depict. Cursing herself for choosing a moving subject, Clarke’s eyes darted back down to her drawing pad and she quickly tried to replicate the shape of Aden’s hand around his longsword as he held it aloft ready to swing. Her first attempt wasn’t at all successful however, and Clarke’s brow furrowed once again. She let out a growl of frustration. The noise was rewarded with a quiet snort of amusement from the person sitting to her right.

Clarke sighed and turned away from her work and towards Lexa, eyebrows raised and nostrils flared. “If you’re about to say some wise words about patience, I swear-”

Her annoyance was met immediately with an innocent shrug from Lexa that made their arms brush, “I was merely observing your work, Clarke. And enjoying how beautiful you look when you’re concentrating on something,” Lexa replied, her mouth turned upwards slightly in the ghost of a cheeky smile.

Clarke gave a scoff, for Lexa’s response had against her will, made her heart stutter. Clarke had resigned herself to the fact that that was always going to happen, no matter how long the two of them were together, every time Lexa made such a comment or gesture. She did not however, need Lexa to know that.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the lesson?” Clarke shot back, “Besides, stop being gross. It’s not like you’ve never watched me sketch before.”

“We are only here to pass the time before the meeting are we not?” Lexa argued back, “And I can trust that Aden is doing a fine job without watching him like a bird of prey, Clarke.”

“So you’re passing the time by eyeing me up instead?”

“Would you prefer that I had already lost interest, niron?” Lexa asked nonchalantly, “It did take me over three months to woo you after all, it’s only fair that we try to stretch out the novelty of being together for at least five times as long.”

“Great, I have another three months to put up with your sappy nonsense and I’m free?” Clarke said, though she didn’t at all mean it. Even so, her refusal to humour Lexa’s wit did earn her a pout. Clarke sighed. “Although technically speaking, and don’t let this go to your head mind, you did manage to woo me in a much shorter time than three months. It’s just that you then un-wooed me rather promptly after that,” Clarke said lightly.

Her face fell serious as she noticed the way Lexa’s mood shifted at the reference to Mount Weather. Lexa didn’t look hurt by the reminder, more shocked that Clarke had so easily made a joke about it.The fullness of her pout had disappeared as Lexa drew her lips into her mouth and she cocked her head slightly, eyes wide.

Clarke realised then that she too had taken herself by surprise, though the surprise was somehow comforting. Clarke knew that humour could be a knee-jerk coping mechanism to difficulty, but she also realised that the ability to look back at something awful and laugh at it was a sign that the past hurt had finally relinquished its hold on you. Clarke wondered briefly when in the past year that shift had occurred.

“Then let me keep making it up to you, Clarke,” Lexa whispered into the silence that had fallen over them as they each tried to read the other.

Clarke offered a weak smile and she dropped her hold on her pad and charcoal so that she could reach out and take Lexa’s hand between her own. She idly turned Lexa’s hand so that it was palm up and Clarke began to trace the odd scar there, the burn from the duel with Ontari now faded and smooth over the hard ridge left by Lexa’s sword when she’d grabbed its blade when fighting Roan; echoes from more trying times. “Lexa, you know you already have,” she assured softly.

Lexa opened her mouth to respond, her eyes wider still and filled with earnest but she did not get the chance to before a new and unexpected voice responded for her,

“That’s disgusting. You’re not supposed to be this loved up after a whole year, sort it out.”

Clarke’s own mouth fell open as she looked up and into the face of Raven. Her dear friend was standing over the couple with her arms crossed. Clarke’s mother stood beside her. Their arrival into the sparring circle had gone quite unnoticed.

“Mom? Raven? What on earth?” Clarke stuttered out and she sprang onto her feet and barrelled forward into her mother’s already outstretched and waiting arms. Clarke closed her eyes and reveled in the comforting familiarity of her mother’s embrace. After a year apart, it was wonderful and she thought she might stay that way for hours. Eventually the hug ended however and Clarke quickly shuffled and gave Raven a briefer hug.

“So you haven’t forgotten who we are whilst you’ve been here, obviously still enjoying the politics after so long?” Raven quipped.

Clarke wrinkled her nose, “Of course I remember you. But I’m surprised you remember saying that,” she said.

Raven shrugged, “What can I say. I have perfect drunk and high memory. It’s a curse, really.”

“You shouldn’t tease them Raven,” Abby spoke up, “It’s wonderful to see that you’ve made a happy home here.”

“ _Mom_ ” Clarke protested against the sappiness, although Lexa, who had followed Clarke’s lead and also picked herself up off of the floor, had other ideas. She stepped forward and offered her arm out in greeting to Abby. The pair clasped forearms a moment.

“A happier home still for your arrival,” Lexa spoke as she relinquished her grip on Abby’s arm. She turned her attention to Raven; “It is good to see you both. I see that your mission was a success.”

Clarke creased her brow at that, unsure of what Lexa meant, but then she studied her friend more closely and was stunned that she’d missed that Raven was sporting an incredibly high-tech prosthetic leg. The frame of it was made out of metal and wires were visible under the shiny plates that mimicked the structure of leg muscles. It looked very cool.

When Arkadia had sent its first official update to Polis and its Ambassador, Clarke had been told of how Raven and a small group, including her mother, had ventured off to the north in search for a way to help fix Raven’s leg. That they had managed to complete their goal so effectively made Clarke grin and Raven must have noticed her happiness because she proudly stuck the prosthetic out for Clarke to better inspect,

“Pretty damn badass, huh?” Raven said.

Clarke nodded, “Raven, it’s amazing. Where did you find it?”

“In a huge medical facility way up north. ALIE’s mansion was basically the start of a huge cookie trail, just as Murphy suspected. We just had to follow the crumbs until we hit the jackpot,” Raven explained,

“That’s great. Though a big adjustment, I’m sure,” Clarke mused,

Raven cocked her head, “Well the nerve damage in my leg was pretty much irreversible, so this seemed like the best option. Plus, it’s something else for me to tinker with,” Raven answered.

“I swear every time I see her, she’s brandishing a screwdriver,” Abby laughed out.

“It isn’t finished yet! I’m trying to get the adjustments just right so that I’ll be able to drive the rover again. Having Monty in the pilot’s seat very quickly lost it’s shine.” Raven said and then she considered Clarke critically. Raven suddenly reached out and grabbed hold of Clarke’s left wrist and she raised up Clarke’s arm between them. “And this rocks. This is what it needs, some decoration. Then it’ll be like a joint effort,” she announced.

Raven was referring to the intricate tattoos that ran the length of Clarke’s arm. The body art wasn’t in the patterned style favoured by the grounders, but a collage of images that Clarke had designed for herself over the past year. At Raven’s request, Clarke’s mind immediately began to work and she imagined what sort of things she would paint onto Raven’s prosthetic. Her brain filled with stars; perhaps a floating astronaut; and of course the origami raven.

“I’d love to draw up a few designs for you. And paint them on once you’ve decided what you want,” Clarke said with a smile. Then her brow creased as the last thing Raven had said caught her attention, “Wait, _joint_ effort? You mean you actually built that yourself?” she asked in amazement.

“Sure, most of it. We found a pretty scratty prototype and I finished it off to spec with what I could find in the facility. Come on, Clarke, you are speaking to Arkadia’s new chief of engineering here,” Raven pointed out.

“Of course!” Clarke replied, “I suppose the handover from Chancellor Sinclair was quite something.”

Raven sniggered. “Mostly ‘great responsibility’, ‘be mature about this’, ‘don’t mess it up’, that sort of stuff, yeah,” she said, “I just told him that I expected no less of him in his new job and that quickly shut him up.”

“How is the camp doing?” Clarke asked, “My last update was five days ago.”

Abby gave a warm smile, “Things are good, well from what we’ve seen. We only arrived back there ourselves two days ago and quickly invited ourselves along to Polis with the Farm council,” she responded, “When we arrived, they’d just finished building a new storehouse for the food grown over the year, the stockpiles are looking very healthy.”

“That front yard must be getting crowded by now,” Clarke mused,

“It is,” Raven confirmed, “Which is why my next project is going to be proposing a camp expansion by dismantling the main building and using the material to build individual dwellings. Don’t get me wrong, living in the wreck does have a certain familiarity to it, but living like we’re still in space is starting to lose its appeal. Especially when it turns out that the couple four doors down from me just had twins,” Raven said with a grimace,

“Oh, this is all news to me!” Abby chimed in and Clarke had to smile at the way her mother’s eyebrows shot up,

“It’s a work in progress,” Raven admitted, “But I promise that an extension to the medical bay is definitely part of my plans,” she added for good measure.

“A wonderful thought, especially since I returned to Arkadia to find the existing medbay much better staffed,” Abby said with a smile and then she turned her attention to Lexa, “Thank you for sending more healers to help. Lincoln told me that they’ve been irreplaceable over the last year.”

“I am glad that the Trikru healers have been a help to the camp.” Lexa spoke at last, for she had thus far remained respectfully quiet as Clarke caught up with her friend and mother. “Actually, I’ve been awaiting your return to discuss with you the extent of my plans regarding the healers,” Lexa added, a thoughtful look upon her face.

“Is that so?” Abby asked,

“Yes. Now that you have returned and will no doubt be sharing your considerable skills with my healers, I would suggest that they stay with you in Arkadia for a while longer, before being sent home and replaced by another group,” Lexa explained,

“Like a sort of exchange program?” Abby mused, enthusiasm in her voice.

Lexa gave a terse nod and she clasped her hands behind her back so that Clarke knew she really meant business. “The healers should stay until they have learned all they can from you and vice versa, and then they can return to their usual posts, where the knowledge they’ve gained can be passed on to others. Then, we send a new group of healers from a different area, perhaps even one of the other clans if they are willing, and so on. In the meantime, you should be training some of your own young in the necessary skills,” she put forward.

Clarke was amazed. Lexa had sent the healers to aid Polis soon after her second Ascension day, it being one of the biggest priorities to help Arkaida get back onto its feet. But Lexa had neglected to mention to Clarke just how much thought she’d put into the arrangement. Clarke turned to her partner and offered Lexa a proud smile. Lexa responded with a confident tilt of her head, though Clarke could see the way her ears had coloured, Lexa’s softness never completely invisible to Clarke even when she was attending to her duties as Commander.

“We should go and get ready for the meeting,” Lexa spoke, no doubt to distract their guests from noticing her flustering. Clarke nodded in agreement, though she loathed having to delay properly catching up with her mother and Raven until later in the day.

Her unwillingness to leave left Clarke stuck to the ground a moment and she remained still as Lexa moved forward and made to leave the sparring circle. It was Abby who fell into step beside Lexa first, and Clarke watched as Lexa and her mother immediately fell to discussing Lexa’s ideas further, heads bowed close as if they were whispering secrets.

“Well, I’ve got to hand it to Lexa,” Raven piped up once the other two were out of earshot, “She’s navigating the whole mother-in-law thing pretty well.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her friend. “My mom isn’t her mother-in-law-”

“ _Yet_?” Raven jumped in.

Clarke groaned, though it was a half-hearted sound for Clarke realised that she had actually intended to tack that word onto her statement herself, quite without hesitation. Her mouth stayed open in a surprised gawp.

“Busted, Griffin. I was going to ask you how things were really going with you two, now that Abby’s out of earshot, but I guess I don’t need to,” Raven teased.

“Amazing,” Clarke responded dryly, “Raven Reyes choosing not to be nosey?”

“There’s no point when the answer to my question is already obvious,” Raven protested, “But for the record, I’m really thrilled for you Clarke. I can tell that you’re happy, that you’ve made a home here. And hell I think you deserve it,” she added more seriously.

“Thanks, Raven,” Clarke said and she felt genuinely moved by her friend’s kind words. “And I’m made-up about your leg, and your promotion. I can’t wait to see what you have planned for our clan,” she said and she meant it. Still, the mention of their people only served to remind Clarke of the duties she was in danger of neglecting if she stayed talking much longer; “Speaking of which, we should probably catch up to my Mom and Lexa. I need to get ready for the council,” she added.

Before Raven could protest and convince Clarke that just a little longer wouldn’t hurt, Clarke bent over to retrieve her otherwise forgotten sketchpad and then she began to walk. Raven fell into step beside her, her new limb making it easy for her to keep up with the purposeful pace Clarke set. Just before they left the circle, Clarke halted, turned back, and offered a wave to Aden. The young man returned it enthusiastically, though the distraction gave the girl he was teaching the chance to finally land a blow against Aden’s side with the mock spear she was brandishing. Clarke sniggered and offered an apologetic grimace and then she turned and left the circle with Raven in tow.

“So,” Raven said as they made their way down the twisting stairs that would lead back into the city, “I get to be a bridesmaid right?”

Clarke groaned, this time with more feeling. “Raven, neither of us has even asked the other yet, you’re kind of jumping the gun.”

“Fine,” Raven seemed to admit defeat, but then she turned her head towards Clarke with a wide grin on her face, “Why don’t you, though? I dare you to! Before we leave, so then you can break the news to Abby in person,” she suggested. “Or are you waiting for Lexa to do it?”

Clarke considered Raven’s last question, though she knew she’d likely regret humouring her. She sighed, “You know, I think I’d be waiting a long time. I don’t think she’d ask unless she was already certain that I was ready to hear it. Lexa would feel like she was putting me on the spot,” she mused.

“Wait, we are still talking about Lexa aren’t we? Like Commander of the whole damn world Lexa?” Raven said.

“She isn’t always ‘Commander of the whole damn world’ you know,” Clarke said slyly, and then “Well, except for when she is,” she added with a smirk. Raven responded to that by comically wiggling her eyebrows.

Clarke gave a contented sigh as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She glanced forward, to make sure that Lexa and her mother were still out of hearing range before she spoke again; “I guess it is something I’m starting to think about for the near future. So whilst I’ll have to politely decline your little dare for now, we’ll see,” Clarke admitted, though the notion had lodged itself into her brain much more firmly than she’d ever admit, especially not to Raven.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Commander Lexa emerged into the throne room as the guards hefted the doors open to make way for herself and her small entourage. She paced over the red carpet, keeping her head held high, though her expression remained on the welcoming side of passive. Lexa didn’t expect the meeting to be anything too noteworthy; it was the fourth such meeting between herself and the joint Skaikru and Trikru farming council, and by now they had lost their novelty somewhat, had become another routine duty to attend to.

Still, the surprise appearance of Abby and Raven gave cause for excitement. Lexa drew in a deep breath and as she approached the dias, she kept herself from smiling as she thought of how happy Clarke had obviously been whilst they were changing for the meeting. She had been practically bouncing on her heels at being reunited with her mother and friend, leaving the handmaidens to chase after her around the bedroom as they tried to braid her hair and buckle the fastenings on the long leather coat that Clarke now wore when conducting official business. Lexa had known it to be futile to try to get Clarke to calm herself, and so she had merely suggested to Clarke that as soon as the meeting was through, it would be nice for them to have a sit down meal and a proper talk with their unexpected house guests.

The Commander cleared her mind of her reminiscing as Lexa climbed the stairs of the dias and reached her throne. She swiveled on her heels and scanned her eyes across the room. Her two honour guards took their places beside her throne, whilst Indra sauntered past to her usual space. Since it was Skaikru business they were attending to, Clarke also moved up onto the plinth rather than take her place on her seat, and she came to stand at Lexa’s right; the space usually reserved for Aden these days. Lexa allowed herself a quick glance in Clarke’s direction and the pair exchanged what they thought were sneaky smiles. Then, the Commander turned her attention back to the room and she clasped her hands behind her back.

“People of Skaikru and Trikru, I welcome you to my halls and bring the fourth meeting between the Kongeda and the farming council to a start,” Lexa began, “If your spokespeople will come forward, we may begin.”

With that, Lexa dropped gracefully down onto her throne and she crossed a leg over the other as she waited. Bryan kom Skaikru and Gavriel kom Trikru stepped forward from the small group of people gathered in the room and came to stand at the foot of the dias. Both of them offered a respectful bow of the head to Lexa, which she returned in kind.

“It is good to see you both again,” Lexa spoke, keeping her tone light and the atmosphere reasonably casual. She turned her attention to the Skaikru councilman and offered a brief smile, “Bryan, I trust that you and Miller are doing well?” she asked, for she would always remember the time Miller had asked her advice about his relationship with Bryan and was keen to hear how they were doing as a result.

Bryan grinned widely, “We are,” he confirmed, “In fact, Nate has just been promoted to Chief Guardsman now that his father has retired, for good this time. And upon her return, Nate made Harper his second in command. I’m proud of him.”

Lexa gave a nod, “It is comforting to know that the safety of Arkadia is kept in such capable hands,” she said and she was genuinely pleased by the news. Next, Lexa turned her attention to Gavriel. Like Aden, the young man seemed to have grown immensely since the last time he was here. Only where Aden had retained his lankiness, Gavriel was beginning to fill out so that someday soon, his figure could even be considered imposing. “Gavriel, how is your village doing?”

Gavriel took another step forward in his youthful eagerness, the image at odds with his growing stature, “Flourishing, Heda. Chief Reina wished for me to once again extend my thanks to yourself and to Skaikru for the aid in moving our village. The new site is even better than we could have expected. After a year, I believe everyone has settled and we all look forward to the continuation of our joint ventures with Skaikru to further improve our lives there.”

Lexa was moved by the young man’s words and continuously impressed by the sharp mind he was developing. “A sentiment shared by Skaikru, I am sure, and that brings us nicely to business.”

Bryan was holding a large piece of rolled up parchment and now he brandished it in front of him, “Of course, Commander. If I may?”

Lexa made a motion to her guards with a hand and they immediately moved off and set about retrieving a low table from one of the dark corners of the room. Bryan and Gavriel backed up to allow the guards room enough to place to table at the foot of the stairs and then once they had returned to their posts by Lexa’s throne, the two councilmen approached the table and Bryan unrolled the parchment over it’s surface to reveal a map.

The Commander stood from her throne and descended the stairs to the opposite side of the table. Lexa raised a hand to her chin as she peered down and assessed the map. Her eyes darted over the markings for Arkadia and the village and then she considered the vast areas of land surrounding the two settlements that were keyed as being workable farmland.

“Here are the two newest fields,” Bryan pointed to an area of farmland quite far out from the settlements, judging by the scale; a testament to the work put in by both clans over the past year, “They’ve both tested out as highly fertile grounds. Now we need to consider which crop to plant in them, based on the needs of the two settlements and, of course, the tradability of the surplus produce.”

Lexa considered what Bryan had said. The current agreements between Arkadia and the settlement dictated that they took an even percentage of the food grown to use themselves. Any surplus was then traded for other goods that the settlements found themselves in need of. It had worked well so far, and with more fields waiting to be worked, the rewards for their efforts were only likely to grow. “Are there any crops that either settlement still finds itself in need of? That must continue to be your priority,” Lexa guided.

Gavriel gave a shrug, “After the success of the latest harvest, our kitchens and storerooms are both quite full. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so many potatoes in my whole life as I have these past months,” he said with a laugh.

“No wonder you’ve grown so much,” Clarke’s voice cut in, for she had opted to descend the stairs and join the small group around the table rather than settle for being an observer. “If I can cut in?” Clarke asked, seemingly as an afterthought.

Lexa motioned her hand to the table in welcome, “I’m sure this council will benefit from what you have to say, Ambassador. Please.”

Lexa watched as Clarke took a moment to study the map. Then Clarke looked up and regarded Bryan, “My mother told me that you’ve just finished constructing a new storeroom, so I take it that Arkadia is as well supplied as the village?” she asked.

Bryan gave a nod in confirmation.

“In that case, I’d suggest playing it safe with one of the new fields. It won’t do to get too complacent, so divide it up to make room for growing extra of the most necessary crops. The second field can then be left to take a few risks with, at least for its first harvest,” Clarke suggested thoughtfully.

“You’ve taken the words out of my mouth, Ambassador,” Bryan responded, “In fact, the group that went out with Raven returned with a sample of seeds they found at some sort of storage bank. None of them are labelled, though we’ve managed to identify a few. I wanted to suggest using the second field to see which of the seeds we have not yet identified will take to the climate.”

“It seems Raven’s team has been successful in many regards,” Lexa mused happily,

“They were. And Murphy and Emori didn’t return with the rest. Harper told me how they opted to remain in the wilderness, following the trail they found in the hopes of finding other remnants of the pre-war world that might aid us. Well, us and their own pockets” Bryan said.

Lexa gave a nod and silently wished the two scavengers success on their journey. Then, something that Bryan had said previously stuck in her mind and Lexa narrowed her eyes, “If some of the crops will not grow here, it is likely that they require a warmer climate, yes?”

“That’s the most likely reason for seeds not to take, yes,” Bryan confirmed.

“Then I agree with Ambassador Griffin and yourself. Use the second field to attempt to grow these new seeds. Identify those that won’t take. Then, that will give us cause to begin appealing to the other clans to join the farming council. In particular, the southern clans; Broadleaf and Glowing Forest, where temperatures are warmer,” Lexa advised.

“Can you imagine getting to try a completely new food?” Gavriel piped up, his lingering childlike enthusiasm getting the better of him again. Then he caught himself and went on with a much more considered tone; “I’m sure the prospect would appeal to the clans with warmer lands. And with the Skaikru’s soil testing, over time we can perfect the use of every piece of farmland and make sure that every member of the Kongeda gets its share, either by splitting harvests or trading.”

Lexa had to smile at Gavriel’s vision, for she shared it. The thought of encouraging every clan to work together at farming and other trades for the betterment of everyone’s life was exactly what kept Lexa motivated over what had been a year of meetings similar to this one. Peace certainly came with a more than healthy share of political grind. The thought made Lexa think back to the moment one year ago, when she and Clarke had bid farewell to Abby and to Arkadia. Clarke had hoped out loud then that their time in Polis would be filled with such non-events as diplomatic meetings. So far she had gotten her wish, though that fact had not stopped Clarke from filling the last pages of the sketchpad Abby had given back to her, and several more after that over the months. There was still adventure to be found in the small things, moments to be treasured, like this morning when Clarke had set about capturing Aden’s sparring lesson; a testament to how inspiring the young man’s success in his new life as teacher was.

Lexa had to shake herself yet again from distracting thoughts and the images conjured in her mind blurred and gave way to the view of the map again. Still, Lexa privately mused at how despite their being much fewer pressing matters on her plate these days than she had grown accustomed to in her years as Heda, it seemed as though her mind wandered more freely and Lexa had to make more of an effort to keep her focus on the task at hand. Lexa supposed that it was because there were so many aspects of her life that made her genuinely elated to think about these days. It was little wonder that her brain made every effort to revisted those precious times, even when it was inconvenient for it to do so.

Lexa cleared her throat and tried to remember where exactly she had left the discussion hanging. “You are right Gavriel. This is exactly the sort of opportunity we need to encourage more of the clans to consider taking part in joint ventures,” she finally said.

Gavriel gave a vigorous nod, thankfully none-the-wiser to Lexa’s distractible mood.

“Don’t run away with it just yet. We still need to try to grow the food ourselves first before we go extending our hands,” Clarke warned firmly.

Lexa looked up from the map at Clarke, “Of course, Ambassador,” she answered. “It is agreed,” she looked to the two councilmen, “One new field to grow extra essential crops for redundancy’s sake, one to experiment with the mystery seeds. I look forward to updates on the progress of the next harvest, and perhaps getting to try something new,” Lexa stated, settling back into a routine of professionalism at last to bring the meeting to a natural close.

Bryan opened his mouth to respond, but his reply caught in his throat at the sudden sound of a commotion emanating from outside the throne room doors. Lexa’s head snapped up in confusion, just in time to watch as the doors were opened by the guards to allow entry to a burly man of indistinct clan, dragging a female prisoner in with him by her arm. Despite the fact that her hands had been bound tightly in front of her body and there was a sack over her head, there was no visible resistance from her and the prisoner allowed herself to be marched blindly forward.

The new arrivals came to a stop just behind Bryan and Gavriel and the two councilmen moved quickly aside to grant Lexa a better view. It took her moments to assess that the man was a bounty hunter. Lexa squared up to her full height and regarded him with a stony stare.

“What is the meaning of this interruption?” she asked icily.

The bounty hunter offered a jerky bow of his head, “Forgive me Commander, for my intrusion, but this should not wait,” he said in a gruff voice.

Lexa arched an eyebrow, “Then are you going to remove your prisoner's hood and reveal her identity to me?” she seethed.

The bounty hunter seemed to try to stammer out an apology, but he gave up halfway through the attempt and instead opted to follow Lexa’s command. He reached and tore the burlap sack off of the woman’s head.

Lexa felt her stomach roll as she took in the appearance of the woman. She was older, of course, it had been about seven years since last Lexa had seen her. But even so, her casual gait was unmistakable, as was the unruly mass of reddish hair atop the woman’s head. Lexa narrowed her eyes and suppressed a gasp.

“Captain Luna kom Floukru. Welcome back to Polis,” Lexa spoke, though she barely finished her sentence before Indra cut in,

“Commander, I must object to this!” Indra hissed, “There was no bounty upon Luna’s head, this man had no right-”

Lexa raised a hand to silence Indra and the General caught herself and fell quiet. Still, Indra had made a valid point. Lexa fixed her eyes upon the bounty hunter again. “General Indra speaks truthfully. Why do you bring Luna before me with no cause to?”

“Well, she’s been in hiding, I assumed-” the bounty hunter tried to explain, his voice stuttering. He was interrupted by a loud snort from Luna,

“Don’t worry, my old mentor,” she said in Indra’s direction, “I let this branwoda capture me to gain an audience with the Commander,”

“And how did you convince him to do that?” Lexa interjected.

Luna grimaced, “I might have assured him that since I have indeed alluded you for so many years, then there was a good chance that my sudden reappearance would be enough to warrant a handsome reward to whomever made my return known to yourself,” she offered cheekily.

Lexa repressed a smirk and gave a theatrical sigh. “I see,” she said and then she motioned her hand idly in the direction of the bounty hunter, “For your efforts in bringing Luna to Polis, you may choose a horse from my own stables. Will that be sufficient payment since your quarry gave no resistance?” she offered.

The bounty hunter bowed his head. “That is satisfactory,” he said.

“Very well,” Lexa said, “You may take your leave.”

Another bow and then the man turned and paced back the way he had come from and exited the throne room. Once they were gone, Lexa moved around the table. She drew her dagger from its sheath on her thigh as she moved and then, once she had reached Luna, she took hold of her old friends wrists and carefully cut her free of her bindings.

“Chof,” Luna muttered as she rubbed at her wrists.

“You didn’t need to go to all that trouble to gain an audience with me, Luna,” Lexa muttered.

Luna gave a shrug, “Just wanted to be sure you’d see me,” she said. “I assumed that Titus would have taken measures to make sure that I wouldn’t make it to the throne room, were I to show my face in Polis again,” she continued and her eyes scanned the room, “Where is the old baldy anyway?”

Lexa cocked her head, “I relieved him of his duties a year ago. He was living  a quiet life in the city outskirts last I heard,” Lexa explained and it was quite satisfying to watch the way Luna’s eyes widened at the revelation, “A lot has changed since you left, old friend.”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less of you. Even in the early days of my escape, when I was just starting to found my clan, I could tell that things were going to be different with _strik_ Lexa in charge,” Luna responded.

Lexa felt her ears grow warm at Luna’s use of that nickname in front of the whole room. It was a nickname given out of friendly teasing rather than spite, and it had stuck well into their teenage years when Lexa had shot up and ended up taller than Luna was herself. Although Lexa had often pointed the fact of her superior height out to Luna, her fellow nightblood had only ever responded with a bark of laughter and the claim that as long as Lexa’s arms remained so stringy, she would always be _strik_ Lexa.

The Commander regarded her old friend more softly as the memories conjured made her more acutely aware of just how happy she was to see Luna alive and well. Their competitiveness during their lessons had not stopped a solid friendship, sisterhood even, from developing between them and now Lexa felt as though Luna’s return was something of a gift. She felt that at last, the risk she had taken during the conclave had paid off and where Luna should have been killed by her hand, instead she had come back into Lexa’s life at a time when it was already so enriched.

Lexa worked her jaw as she worked up to the obvious question that thus far she had put off asking. “Why have you come out of hiding Luna? Why now?” Lexa finally asked.

Luna’s face, friendly and open as it ever was, immediately fell serious. “It’s a matter best discussed privately,” she said.

Lexa felt as goosebumps raised on her arms underneath the sleeves of her long coat at the foreboding in Luna’s request. She gave a terse nod and then turned her attention to the delegation. “You have your instructions,” she said to Bryan and Gavriel, “Leave us.”

The men both offered her a nod and Lexa waited until the room had cleared except for herself, Clarke, the two guards by the throne, and Indra. Once the room had emptied, Indra moved from her spot and joined the others around the table where Bryan’s maps were still on display. Lexa wanted to give the General some time to properly greet Luna, for she knew that Indra must be desperate to. Yet the seriousness in Luna’s voice communicated that pleasantries were just going to have to wait. Indra knew this too and she remained diligently silent to allow her Commander to direct the proceedings.

“Well?” Lexa prompted immediately.

Luna furrowed her brow and motioned towards Clarke, “Who’s this?” she asked,her tone wary.

Lexa gave Clarke a brief smile, “Apologies. Chief Luna kom Floukru, this is Ambassador Clarke Griffin kom Skaikru. My niron. Clarke, this is Luna.”

Clarke offered a bright smile and reached her arm out towards Luna, “It is good to get to meet you, Luna,” she said,

Luna did not hesitate to follow Clarke’s lead and the two briefly clasped forearms in greeting, “Oh, I’ve been talked about have I?” she teased,

“Only favourably, I promise,” Clarke replied.

Luna turned her attention back to Lexa, her brow furrowed. “Forgive me, I have not yet had chance to be updated on current affairs until I can meet with my Ambassador, so I’m rather out of the loop. But may I ask what happened between you and the blacksmith’s second? Only I was sure-”

“Costia died,” Lexa interrupted lowly, “Four years ago now.” Lexa felt herself battling back tears at the unexpected reference to her first love. Her brows knitted as it dawned on her that Luna certainly wasn’t exaggerating when she had claimed to be out of the loop. “Luna where have you been all this time if you did not know that?”

Luna pointed towards the table, “May I?” she said and then Lexa watched as Luna reached into a pocket on the inside of her jacket and procured a folded paper from it. Lexa gave a nod in permission and watched as Luna unfolded the paper and laid it across the table. On it was another map. It depicted a strangely shaped mass of land that Lexa thought she might half-remember having saw before in some book or another in her youth.

“That’s a map of Europe,” Clarke piped up, her voice certain though her words meant little to Lexa. The Commander watched as Clarke eagerly began to study the map. She pointed down at different areas of the land mass, “France, Spain here, that little island there was the UK,” she listed off.

Luna nodded in agreement, “You’re right, though the UK is a dead zone now, as is much more of the continent. What remains is known singly as ‘Europa’. When I sailed across the ocean, I made port here,” Luna pointed to the part of the map that Clarke had labelled as ‘France’. “And then I was taken to meet with the governing body of Europa here,” Luna pointed to another area of the map.

Lexa was aghast. “You sailed to this place and made contact with other people?” she asked, disbelieving.

Luna looked up from the map and offered Lexa a small smile, “Well I was never sure if you’d decide to hunt me down or not. I decided that putting some ocean between us would help me sleep better at night,” Luna joked. “But yes, I did meet other people across the sea. And now they wish to make contact with you,” she finished more gravely.

Lexa’s blood ran cold. She turned to Clarke and found that she was already looking at her, her own mouth agape. Lexa grimaced. “Do you think that these people can be trusted, Luna?”

Luna nodded, “I do. I lived with them for five years, to make certain of their intentions before I brought word back to you. For now, they just wish to open up a dialogue with the Kongeda,” she answered.

Lexa stared off past Luna’s shoulder as she considered a moment. “Indra, take Luna and see to it that she has a room to sleep in tonight. It might be wise to get your former second caught up on current events, and I am sure the two of you will have plenty to talk about besides,” she said.

“As you wish Commander,” Indra said and she moved around the table to Luna’s side.

Lexa looked at Luna again, “Luna, I will consider the implications of this information and give you a decision tomorrow. In the meantime, please make yourself at home, I’m sure you can recall where everything is.”

Luna looked like she might protest being dismissed but she remained silent and gave a bow, “Very well, Commander,” she said simply and professionally, as if the gravity of what she’d just laid at Lexa’s feet had just hit her, and knocked her usual casual manner out of Luna. She and Indra also left the throne room, leaving Lexa and Clarke alone with the guards.

Lexa glanced back down to the map, her jaw set tight, “Did you know about the other survivors on Earth?” she asked, and she saw Clarke shake her head in her peripheral vision,

“We thought the Earth was unsurvivable. We didn’t think anyone was down here,” Clarke responded. She gave a long sigh and the sound made Lexa wince.

Lexa looked up from the map to Clarke with an apologetic look upon her face.

“There goes our evening meal, I guess,” Clarke muttered.

Lexa tried to smile but she couldn’t manage it. They had both known that one day, something would happen that would threaten the peace they had created over the past year. They were well aware that their routine would inevitably be disturbed by some new revelation. But Lexa also knew that neither of them had been expecting such a startling development as the existence of other people on other lands. People that now wanted to reach out to them.

“We were both waiting for something to happen, Clarke, admit it,” Lexa voiced her thoughts aloud. She wasn’t sure if stating the fact helped or embittered her further though.

Clarke creased her brow and puffed out a breath. She bobbed her head. “Alright,” she said, conviction in her voice now, “So now that something has, what are we going to do?”

Now Lexa managed a smile, a bright one. For although she had always been certain that something would one day interrupt their rather blissful life, she had also known that as long as whatever occurred was faced side by side, everything would turn out well. She and Clarke would weather every storm headed towards them together and come out stronger than ever on the other side. They always did.

  
END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuun.
> 
> I'd like to say one last big thank you to everyone who has stuck with this tale to its end. And special thanks to those of you who took the time to leave kudos and comment. Your encouraging words and constructive feedback has been an immeasurable help, and at times extremely moving.
> 
> I hope that I've helped to give some of Clexakru a little closure by writing this, since that was always my main intention.
> 
> And I'd like to to briefly mention that during the process of writing this story, I realised that pursuing a career in writing is something I would like to do. I intend to go forward and start working on some original ideas, with the hopes of self-publishing a few things at the least.
> 
> Finally, although I cannot and will not make any promises, as the twist in the epilogue suggests, I certainly do have some ideas for how I could continue this tale and do a 'season 4'. For now, they are kernels and my own projects, and life itself, must take a priority before I start trying to pop them into full ideas, but they are there. I can at least say that even if I never develop those ideas into a full sequel, I doubt I'll be able to keep my mitts off of Clexa for too long, and I will at very the least be dipping back into the verse as a means to hone my craft. 
> 
> So I guess, the only way I can really sign this off is: May we Meet Again :)
> 
> Beth

**Author's Note:**

> Heda gonplei nou ste odon.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at pirateboots.tumblr.com


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